Sigh For Me
by Thorn In Your Side
Summary: Hikaru Challenge. You're not my problem, but you're my solution. Let's make it simple and avoid any confusion: if you stay by my side, I'll never hide away from love.
1. Catch Me On The Rebound

**Sigh For Me **

**A/N: Sempai=senior/upperclassman; kouhai=junior/underclassman (impolite; self-deprecating); onii-san and variations mean big brother. Moe is a quality like cuteness that inspires protective instincts. I stopped reading the manga at chapter 190, so anything after that that contradicts this story, don't tell me. I can't wait to finish this and get back to Skip Beat!**

**I keep Japanese honorifics to convey the relationships between characters better. Bear with me; if there's a term you didn't catch, ask me.  
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**Chapter One: Catch Me on the Rebound**

**x.x.x.x.x.x**

Ishibashi Hikaru would try to drown his sorrows in alcohol, but there wasn't enough money in his brothers' pockets. In any case, the rate at which his tears were leaking out probably meant there would be no need to serve his margaritas with salt.

"Uuh…uuh… how could she—_**do **_this to me~ee!"

Yuusei patted the poor guy's back while Shin'ichi deliberated the last member of their little quartet with well-placed wariness. Mogami Kyoko was literally fuming.

"Uh, Kyoko-chan, why is there a black cloud over your head?"

By way of response the amber eyed cutie banged her fist on their table and half-rose from her seat across Hikaru at the four-man booth. Shin'ichi smiled reassuringly at a family with young children sitting next to them—_we're not hooligans._

"Hikaru-sempai, love is a deep dark abyss that sucks your mortal soul in and gnaws on your bleeding heart! You must learn from this mistake and never love again!"

Shin'ichi's smile cracked a bit. The family glared at him.

"The woman that left you is clearly a curse set on you by some denizen of hell! Luckily this humble kouhai of yours knows how to make charms to ward off such evil!" she began digging frantically through her bag as Hikaru's wailing continued unabated. Yuusei stopped comforting his brother to stare at the clearly crazy chick's really hazy actions.

"Aha!" Kyoko pulled out, with no moderate triumph, a small string purse. Shin'ichi quit smiling at the family to see what it was, and they quickly took the opportunity to get their meal to go. Kyoko, careful not to touch Corn the Stone, dropped it onto a neatly folded napkin by Hikaru's plate. Yuusei and Shin'ichi both turned expectantly to their sibling. He peered at it through weepy eyes.

"Wha—whuh—what is it?"

Good question. A while ago, Corn was Kyoko's most precious and private thing. Once Reino and Ren had gotten their grubby mitts on it, it had become…something else. Ren's scary kiss and Reino's stupid ruminations combined weirdly to turn it into a talisman, a blue ember throbbing with a heady mixture of love and hate. Kyoko wasn't about to touch the thing, but still believed in its powers to heal. She looked deep into Hikaru's eyes as she spoke.

"It's the answer. Please pick it up with your bare hands."

A hand, trembling slightly, reached out to the sapphire. Yuusei watched tensely as Hikaru wrapped his fingers around it. The wet-faced woobie frowned.

"Kyoko-chan, is something happening?"

"Hold it up to the light, sempai!"

He did, and under the restaurant's bright yellow bulbs the sapphire glowed darkly.

"Pretty," Shin'ichi commented at length.

"Useless," Yuusei thought to himself.

Hikaru sadly brought it down onto the napkin again. A waitress brought them a fresh round of beer, and he blubbered into his mug.

"Uuh…hnng…thank you for trying, Kyoko-chan, but…" he swiped a sleeve under his drippy nose, "Nothing can make me feel better right now. I miss Naie too much!"

"And we," Shin'ichi spoke with no little disgust, "Miss our big brother. Who's this pussy? Jeez. Ow—Yuusei!"

Yuusei was like, "You need to shut up. Hikaru-nii doesn't need your brand of comfort. Hug him."

"What? No."

"Hug him!" He reached over and pushed their heads together. "Give onii-san a big hug, Shin'ichi!"

"Leggo of me, you idiot! Hikaru—hey, Hikaru! Put a stop to this!"

Kyoko packed Corn away, uneasy. When Shoutaru had betrayed her Corn had been her one comfort. Corn had even helped Tsuruga Ren, that man whose bad moods spelled death to Kyoko, feel better. Why wasn't it working for Hikaru?

And another thing. Why did Hikaru have to suffer? Bridge Rock's lead idol was her favorite among the three, always cool and considerate. When talking about his girlfriend, he was soft and affectionate. He reminded her of herself. Before Shoutaru's hideousness had come into the light. It was too much of a pity to think of him losing that important human emotion—the one Kyoko herself was still struggling to regain. Oh, sure she adored Kanae (sometimes, Kanae feared, more than entirely okay for a best friend to adore) and sure she worshiped the Darumaya couple. The missing emotion went deeper than that, though; had further levels. Kyoko still couldn't trust a man with herself. Ogata Hiroaki, Yashiro Yukihito and Tsuruga Ren (!) were the closest she'd allowed eligible men to come, and even they were unattainable and worlds above her one way or another. To think of starting up a r-r-romance with one such man was—

Her phone erupted (interrupted) with a jingly series of rings that she'd taken from Kanae. An overseas number. Kyoko blinked stupidly at it until Shin'ichi noticed.

"Kyoko-chan, aren't you going to take that?"

"Uh, right." She stood and excused herself to the lobby. Yuusei and Shin'ichi nodded their understanding, and the teen tap-tap-tapped her way on Natsu-heels through the cozy, casual restaurant. (Bridge Rock had this wholesome-family image that they didn't want to muss by hanging out anywhere too cool. As if making a ruckus in a respectable eatery like this was better…) The phone still throbbed in her hand, keening like a banshee now. Kyoko didn't know anyone abroad. Ren was bound to Japan until they finished filming half the new movie. Yukihito wouldn't leave his side at such a time. Kanae had a regular drama. She didn't consider Shou; as far as she knew _**he **_never called her. She did think of another fair-haired asshole, though. A denizen of hell that could be calling from his homeland—talk about your _**foreign lands**_…

The jingle as near its end, the girl was in the smoky lobby. Wrinkling her nose at both the burning nicotine and the prospect of speaking to Reino, she answered the call.

"…Hello…?"  
>"…Son?"<p>

"…!" Kyoko's mouth worked wordlessly, trying to blurt out the endearing endearment Hizuri Kuu wanted to hear. She couldn't though, not yet—Kuon rose up in her like a favorite song and she sang out, "Da~ad?"

"…Kuon!"

"Dad!"

"Kuon!"

"This is a really expensive phone call you're making, old man."

"…Kuon!"

"Dad! What do you want?"

She—Kuon—he(?) could picture the look of spurned adoration on Kuu's foolishly handsome face. His voice filled her ear and her heart brimmed with happiness.

"Hey, don't be mean to your father. I wanted to keep in touch with my boy. The boss wouldn't lemme have your number for the longest time, though. Seemed to think I'd disturb your work…can you imagine? Me! Uh, you're not working right now, are you?"

"Nah," Young Kuon said, "Just hanging out with some guys."

"That so? Then why don't you get back to them…I'll call you later."

"What?" Kyoko could've died; this was too brief a reunion, "Dad, wait! I wanna talk more."

"Hizuri Kuon," Kuu rumbled across the Pacific, "I didn't raise you to be the kind of man that leaves people waiting for him to take a frivolous call, did I? Quit trying to bring me shame."

Hizuri Kuon, whoever that was, drooped. "Sorry, Dad…"

Suddenly, sunshine! Kuu practically transmitted sparkles across the globe, "That's okay. Do better next time."

"Yeah! Then I'll hang up now?"

"Mm. Wait. …Kyoko," and the scene was cut, and Young Kuon left her like a sweet puff of some passerby's perfume, "The 'guys' you're with, are they from the Dark Moon cast?"

"No, sir, they're my seniors at…at, uh, a different job of mine." An ache settled in, the loss of the father-child dynamic to the servant-superstar one. Kuu had told her to use Kuon for as long as she needed, but both of them wanted to have the same rapport even without him. Well, work with what you have. Kuu hummed again into the phone.

"Okay, go join them—no wait. Hold on! Your mom wants to know when you'll come home to play. I told her it'd be a while but she insisted find out from you personally if you have a break in your schedule… Kyoko? Hello? Are you okay?"

He asked because she'd sucked in her breath sharply during his soliloquy. Mom? As in mother? As in the unapproachable iceberg that had dumped her on another doorstep as a child? Or…or had fate, having given her a faux father, decided to throw a _**mother**_ in for free…

"Mom?" she asked.

"My wife, Julie," Kuu spoke the name like a reverent caress. "She's always wanted a daughter. You wait till you can call us parents without being Kuon. She'll spoil you rotten. You'll be her little princess."

Kyoko, a princess? Her mind must be cracking from the strain of having her heart overrun by demons.

"You know they used to call our Kuon a beauty? Ooh, he used to get so mad…Julie tried to put him in a frock once when he was six. That was the first time he threw a tantrum…" Kuu laughed in the thrall of memory. "Our little prince, a minotaur in disguise! Oh, Julie still can't remember that day without laughing or crying until her face is red."

Kyoko didn't get it. This beautiful couple, this perfect pair of swans, had lost their cygnet son…and wanted a mediocre gosling like her to take his place. She was blessed. Surely, she was blessed beyond reason, beyond recklessness even.

She stood immobile, both hands holding the mobile to her ear, eyes welling up. He lower lip was wobbling like a too-high stack of pancakes, the kind she'd cooked for Kuu because he felt like eating them. Shin'ichi poked his head into the lobby and sighted her.

"Kyoko-chan? Oh jeez, you're kidding." He disappeared into the restaurant main, not that his voice wasn't voluble enough. "Hey big brother! Hikaru, quit sobbin'. Your love failure has Kyoko-chan in tears. The President will murder us in our beds for making a Love Me member cry…"

"…Kyoko?" Kuu finally cottoned on to the meaning of her surreptitious sniffs, "Are you crying?"

"Yeah. I'm so happy…"

"Eh?"

"I have to go, Dad. Call me again, okay?"

"…Eh!"

She disconnected the call without even realizing what she'd called him sans Kuon. Classic Kyoko. Shou had really messed this chick up; any blip in her loveless heart that smacked of affection directed at men was _**brutally **_ignored. Quite a mind game. The Bridge Rock brothers spilled out in quick succession. Shin'ichi thumped her shoulder.

"Smile, Kyoko-chan, if you're moody then we'll throw you and Hikaru both into a fountain! Nice weather for it, too."

She grinned as they all emerged into the parking lot. Yuusei stretched, reaching his hands to the dark sky while they headed for their car (Kyoko's cycle attached to its back).

"So brothers—milady—where next?"

"Hmm," Shin'ichi tried to factor in both a girl's presence and a guy's deathly sad aura, "How about karaoke? Or baseball. No, somewhere in between…uh, bowling? A movie?"

"Movie sounds good," Hikaru spoke levelly from within his cloud of doom (hey! That was Kyoko's. He ought to ask permission before pilfering it like that), "I would at least be able to bear my anguish in silence."

"Nii-san," Yuusei sighed, "If only you _**were**_ bearing your anguish in silence."

Kyoko checked her watch and yelped, "Whoa, I'm late!"

"Late for what?" Yuusei asked curiously.

"I'm meeting my brother," she explained distractedly, dialing a number, "I can't come anywhere with you…in fact he'd freak out if he knew I was with three guys by myself…stupid big brother…ah, hello?" Setsuka slid smoothly into her as the boy band watched in developing consternation, "Cain-nii? Yeah, I know I'm late…whaddaya mean 'why'? isn't it _**your**_ fault? You told me we were meeting an hour from now! Yes, you did." She listened to the dangerous sibling accept a mistake he hadn't made. "Well, I forgive you. I'm on my way over. Buh-bye. Kiss."

Snapping her phone shut, Kyoko curled a few fingers' farewell at Yuusei and Shin'ichi—even Hikaru looked confused—before pedaling away on the bike they'd detached for her. The pick-up point was pretty close…if she could do her make-up and change costume in the car it'd be great. It was horrifying that she'd lost track of time, but nothing derailed her like love gone awry.

Back in the parking lot, the trio looked at each other for explanations.

"A brother?"

"Named Cain?"

"…Kiss?"

000

Tsuruga Ren was a man of many traits. Aw hell, he was a man of various _**faces**_. Of course in his case, it was less a psychosis and more a profession. Whatever, dude was deep.

Deep. In. Thought.

The Cain Heel version of Japan's most desired man leaned callously against a lamppost, waiting for his baby sister. The strangers on the street gave him and his shady trench coat a wide berth. Ren knew he ought to get into character now—Setsuka had called, not Mogami Kyoko. But the whole business nagged at him—living with his protective charm of a sister, having his mask as Tsuruga Ren slowly corrupted as BJ drew more and more from Kuon's personality… he'd begged this upon his own head; he'd chosen this; he'd worked the President non-stop for this. What he hadn't done was ask for Kyoko. What he never wanted was her interference.

It made a lot of sense to have her around. The girl was his savior. When she called Ren's name he became real, a true thing instead of a character Kuon hid behind. But neither part of him—_**no **_part of him—wanted her to help him with this, wanted to confirm what was already obvious. This exercise would mean nothing if he couldn't achieve it on his own.

Ren twitched slightly, nerves shaking the Cain out of him. He was not nearly strong enough to face his past, and accept it, and forgive himself, and allow others to forgive him. Though Lory had said Kyoko would stop him from dropping his façade as Ren altogether, Kuon couldn't help but feel it was her fault that his true self wanted to wake up in the first place. It wasn't just Tsuruga Ren that had fallen for the child. Kuon had too, and that was scary. He wasn't ready for that. She didn't deserve that.

Lory had said, if that's how you really feel, we can kill off Setsuka. But you will have to tell her yourself.

Naturally, Ren had recoiled from the concept of taking a role away from his previous protégée (right, because that was all she was to him. Where would he be without rock-hard denial? On the same level as that scum stalker Reino, frightening the wits out of her and earning her rich, frothing hatred). Kuon, being less genteel, had noticed something. In one of their out-of-character conversations Kyoko had confessed (her undying love for him! Pfft, he wished) the following:

"It's pretty nerve-wracking, Tsuruga-san! I keep expecting you to NG me. You're too generous a colleague; I've messed up so many times…but I guess you have low expectations of me to begin with since I'm an amateur."

If Ren broke it to her that Setsu wasn't needed, wasn't wanted, wasn't even doing an adequate job, Kyoko would not be surprised. As far as she was concerned she was working hard, but wasn't fit to act with him yet. Ren didn't understand, but Kuon did. Kyoko had him up on a goddamn pedestal—maybe that was why she didn't see him as a man. Firing her would fire her urge to improve, to surpass him—it wouldn't break her heart like he vaguely hoped (in a poisonous, selfish way) it would.

"Nii-san~"

Setsuka ran up to her big brother and threw her arms around his…uh, waist, because the neck was somewhere in the stratosphere. Kyoko had been thinking furiously all through the ride about how Setsu would apologize for her tardiness and decided it made most sense to moe it up and rely on her big brother's buttery heart to melt.

"You're late," Ren blurted out before making the switch to Cain. "This is no good as an apology."

Setsu let him go and pouted, tapping a finger against her lower, pierced lip. "Then, I'll make you a big dinner!"

"That's a punishment. To make up your unpunctuality, let me buy you a diamond necklace."

Setsu stuck her tongue out and said, "How much money do you think you're getting for this acting job! That's way too extravagant."

Cain adopted his kicked puppy expression in a flash. "All I want is for my sister to feel beautiful like other girls her age…"

"What kind of girl my age goes around wearing diamond necklaces? Don't just make stuff up!"

He pinched her cheek and started dragging her down the street. "You're rude. I should teach you a lesson."

"Ow ow ow ow ow—teach it without torturing me? Ow….!"

Later tonight he would rid himself of her and the unwelcome desires she built up in him. For now he would enjoy the novelty of her skin against his without hysterical aftereffects. Transferring his grip from cheek to her wrist, he leaned into the wind.

"Setsu, what do you want to do?"

"Hmm? I thought you were gonna punish me?"

"Let's postpone that. I feel like spoiling you."

"_**No**_ diamond necklace, nii-san…"

"The carnival," Cain suggested, "You like the Ferris Wheel."

She did? Sure she did. Kyoko filed this information away in a folder reserved for Setsu-traits. Loves heights.

"You hate heights though, so I don't know why…"

Uh, okay. Hates heights, loves clinging to her brother with that excuse. Kyoko was once again bowled over by how inappropriate Setsuka's brother complex was. Even creepier was how Cain Heel seemed to utterly return her obsession so that the dangerous siblings were in constant danger of toppling into an incestuous embrace. Kyoko fervently vowed to not let the character development go there. If ever again Ren exposed her to his Emperor of the Night look, she might not survive.

"Let's go, then. And hey, nii-san, buy me cotton candy when we get there."

"You didn't even have to ask, kid."

The carnival was a strip of bourgeois pleasure in one of the lesser city wards. Young couples and young children flitted here and there, the latter chased by white collar parents with worn out laughs. Balloons everywhere and music from speakers on tent poles added to the atmosphere. Ren, ill at ease, turned up that factor in Cain that chased people away. Passersby flicked their eyes to his enormous black presence and scooted away. Cain looked down at his baby sister.

Setsu's eyes _**glowed**_.

"Look, nii-san, clowns on stilts!"

This was Kyoko, Ren thought with a rapidly beating heart, Kyoko was with him at this bright, noisy, crowded carnival. Then was this a date? The clowns on stilts leaned down to offer her one of the roses woven through his wig and—it _**was**_ Kyoko—she reached out one small hand for it…but stopped half way. A panicked expression skittered across her face—a surreptitious glance at him that he felt like a floodlight—a fear of getting NG'd at last (this was his chance; fire her, Ren!)—and a brisk return to being Setsu, who ducked under her big brother's arm and begged him to pluck the flower from the clown-bush.

Cain was a doting brother; he did as he was told. Ren was a fine gentleman; he resigned himself to heartbreak. Kuon was a murderer and a hooligan; he was incensed.

Setsu took the bloom and beamed. "Thanks a ton. Let's ride the Ferris Wheel now!" She turned on bouncy heels, and Tsuruga Ren spoke out.

"Mogami-san."

Every other reason he had to get rid of Setsu stood dwarfed by this one: _**he could not act with her**_. Desire made him desperate, desire made him unprofessional. Desire had him nitpicking her act for one hint of her that might hint at wanting him. It had to stop.

Kyoko turned slowly, sadly. "Yes, Tsuruga-san?"

"Let's start over."

She swallowed the NG with a nod of her dark head.

"Take a break for ten minutes." He pointed to an empty park bench. "I'll bring us some cotton candy."

She nodded again, winced as Fuwa Shou's latest hit twanged through the speakers, and trudged away. Ren, a little overwhelmed, went to buy the promised treat. When he returned with one huge stack of spun sugar, he found her arguing with a stranger. When she saw him, she latched onto his arm—Setsuka latched onto Cain's arm—and squealed.

"Cain-nii, tell this guy to go away! This bench is just for the two of us, right?"

She was trying to show that she could do a good job by bringing in a new character to act against. If she could convince the new guy that Setsu was an obnoxious young bitch then Ren wouldn't fire her. He almost smiled. Then he looked over at the newcomer to give a gory glower.

By some totally staggering and entirely gratuitous coincidence, it was Fuwa Shou he glowered at.

000

Good actors are generally good at disguising themselves. Tsuruga Ren boldly accepted the ludicrous idea of playing BJ anonymously because he was confident that he could dissociate himself from Ren's famous face by emoting differently. That was also why he could bang around in public as Cain Heel and not be recognized. Kyoko wasn't as good as him, but she wasn't as much of a household name either, so she managed.

But Shou? A top-notch (or getting there) idol? A _**musician**_? His idea of becoming invisible was pulling on a black wig and dark shades, and dressing like his misconception of a school boy. Ren saw through it in a heartbeat because he knew the signs of an inexperienced star going incognito. Kyoko just saw an unusually dressed nut going around in tinted evening glasses.

But why? He'd dolled up and stepped out of his vicious, wonderful world to escape the torrential pour of praise. Just for a minute! Shoutaru adored being adored; Kyoko's relationship with him was one long testimony to that. He was painfully wary of becoming careless, too, because everyone was telling him he was the best. Kyoko was a slap in his face; he couldn't afford to relax if she was going to have a rival worth defeating. Head whirling with his plans for the next album, Vie Ghoul (haha, beagles) and _**Kyoko**_, Shou had stepped out.

And stepped on a teen's tail. He didn't get it. Even in a wig he was hot. The girl, dressed though she may be like a Gothic punk, should have swooned when he sat next to her on the park bench. Instead…

"Hey, get up."

He looked askance at her. "What?"

"I'm saving this seat for my brother. Go sit somewhere else."

What was really strange was that she'd waited a solid thirty seconds before picking her fight. Forget that, what was strange was that she was picking on him at all. Shoutaru shrugged.

"This bench is big enough for three. Your brother will fit."

"No he won't, he's really big! Go sit somewhere else, why don't you!"

He glared at her. "Don't be annoying. Why should I move? If you wanna be alone _**you**_ go away."

She began to retort, and then the brother showed up: about twenty feet tall and dressed like a Hollywood criminal. Shou realized as soon as the girl grabbed the man's arm what was wrong—she was one of _**those**_ little sisters. The brother stared in shock at him, and then lowered his eyes. Shou tugged at the ostentatious scarf around his neck. Had he been recognized?

"Setsu, let the man sit. Sorry, sir. She's just a kid."

"No, don't worry about it." Shoutaru like _**hell**_ was gonna hang out with people this creepy. "I have somewhere else to be anyway."

"You didn't have to be there ten seconds ago," Setsu smugly said, "You're scared Cain-nii will beat on you."

"Yeah," Shou rolled his eyes, "Absolutely petrified." As he strolled away, he noticed that the brother—Cain—looked relieved. Probably glad to be able to feel up his jailbait sister in peace. Shou was an only child, but that sort of behavior put him off his meals. Brothers were supposed to protect, not molest. It was probably consensual now but when she grew up that girl's entire childhood would be one bad memory, and that was just unacceptable.

His phone rang loudly with the sardonic love ballad he'd set specifically for Shouko's calls. He answered.

"Yeah?"

"I woke up and you were gone. Is everything okay, Shou?"

"Yeah, only needed a breather." And he took a deep breath to support his statement. "Don't worry, I haven't run away."

"Mm…don't stay out too long…stay safe."

"Your valuable superstar, right?" he stopped at a popcorn stand and bought the caramel-coated junk.

"My Shou," Shouko corrected him, "My polygamous burden. Stay safe for yourself, not me."

"Yes ma'am. I'm hanging up."

A small commotion ahead caught his attention. As he drew close he saw that the Bridge Rock brothers had been surrounded by a fawning crowd. Shou watched them handle the fans by themselves for a while. Two of them were all smiles and patience and pleasant comments as they autographed scraps of paper and the occasional arm or bra. One of them, through—Hiroku, Shou thought nebulously, or Hoshi—had a droopy look to him, like he'd recently cried or been sick. Possibly both. They were technically his seniors, having debuted a full year before him, but he was so much more popular that he didn't feel obliged particularly to greet them. He was about to move on when a clearly dedicated fangirl screamed,

"Oh my god, Fuwa-sama!"

He was caught by irreverent yet awed hands and jovially thrust at the Bridge Rock brothers, pressed into autographing and faced with phone camera flashes.

"Hey, Fuwa-kun," one of them said, "How's it going?"

A young man sidled up to him and asked, "Yuusei-san, please, a picture?" and Shou replied after the man had melted back into the swelling crowd.

"Not bad. Wanted a quiet evening, but work," he scribbled his name onto a chick's neck, "It never stops for us."

Yuusei said gravely, "Too true, too true. Shin'ichi and I—yes, your name? Okay, 'to Honoko-san, with love'—brought Hikaru-nii here to cheer him up but work," he grinned into a camera, "You said it."

Hikaru, that had to be the sad puppy. Shou saw him properly; he was making a crap attempt at a grin.

"What happened?" he asked Yuusei. Shin'ichi, posing with him, answered after the flash had gone off.

"He remembered his girlfriend dumped him. Actually, it happened weeks ago. He's slow to come to terms with it."

Shou made a scornful noise. "Crying over a woman?"

Shin'ichi calmly replied, "Yes, well, Hikaru would cry over a man but he's not gay enough."

Shou cracked a quick grin and amended. "Crying over love…isn't he too old for it?"

"This is the difference between growing up at LME and growing up at Akatoki Agency," Yuusei laughed, "We're the agency with a Love Me section and a love-crazy president, Fuwa-kun. Love is about all we ever cry for."

Shin'ichi said, "I wonder what Fuwa-kun cries for?"

Shoutaru said, "The audience that accepts bad music as good."

Yuusei smirked. "Like Vie Ghoul's?"

"Visual kei," Shou remarked, blasé, "Is _**so**_ passé."

The crowd thinned and dispersed entirely, then a new voice spoke up. Shou was quite startled. When he'd last heard Hikaru speak the man had just finished his show with Shou; he'd been pleasant and ingratiating—now? Now the eldest Ishibashi sounded like his karma had recently run over his dogma.

"I'm not having fun at all. May I be allowed to go home?"

Shin'ichi snorted. "Right, and Yuusei and I will go on the merry-go-round with Fuwa-kun. Don't be stupid. We're gonna make you have fun tonight if it kills us."

"if you keep walking around at night without security," Shou darkly said, "Some psycho fanatic might do just that. Anyway, he won't be magically cured of the blues by a carnival. You should take him home instead."

Hikaru raised his eyes in gratitude towards the blond pop star, and Shoutaru met his gaze with some surprise and some smugness. Yuusei looked to Shin'ichi to make a decision, and the drummer boy made it.

"Fuwa-kun, we're not as experienced as you are in matters of love. You're probably the best person to help Hikaru through his break-up. So you do it!" And, grabbing Yuusei's arm, he started to stalk right out of Shou's life.

"What? What? Hey—hey! Don't just randomly walk away!" Shou shouted far too late to no avail; Hikaru stood morosely beside him.

"It's no use," the man said, "They've done this before. If I'm bad company they dump me with the first person they find who'll have me. I'm just glad they didn't throw me at Kyoko-chan. She was odd today."

Shou swiveled his neck too fast and head it crack. "Ow. Wait, 'Kyoko'?"

Hikaru nodded. "Our colleague—she plays Bo on the show. Your rival," he added, and Shou for one ludicrous moment thought his childhood bitterheart had spilled her soul's secrets to this near-stranger. But then he remembered Bo—the chicken—and his on-air badminton match. Memorable stuff.

"You don't have to hang out with me, Fuwa-kun."

"I wasn't going to," Shoutaru said irritably, "But I will now. Have you gotten drunk yet?"

"Fuwa-kun, if not for the five liters of beer in my bloodstream right this moment I would be sobbing on your shoulder instead of behaving like a rational being."

Shou winced. "What happened, exactly? Why'd she ditch you?"

Hikaru looked down at his feet for a long while. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"You're forcing me to guess," the younger talent warned him, "Spit it out. It's probably happened to someone I know. Your brothers suck, but I won't leave you alone. I'm no monster."

"I hardly know you," Hikaru protested mildly, giving in almost immediately. "Naie didn't like being the girlfriend of a public figure. She's a student of literature at Kyoto, and one of my oldest friends. When we started dating she thought it was funny that the glitterati suddenly gained an interest in her. She got sick of it quickly, though…she got sick of me."

Shou was derisive of the fallen man. "And I bet she told you to still be friends."

"No," Hikaru croaked miserably, "She told me it would be too awkward and to not contact her for a while. Did I listen? Of course not—I sent her flowers every day and begged her to come back to me. I think I'm going to throw up. Could you take me to a trash can?"

Shou's disdain for heartbreak was overthrown by his desire to avoid being puked on; he pivoted Hikaru and aimed him at a bin so that his senior could relive his binge. The disdain strode firmly back onto his face.

"Being reduced to such a mess by a woman…do you think she's so affected? She's probably acing a test right now. Probably plotting to act in your next music video and embarrass you."

Hikaru couldn't make sense of that last part, so he focused on bringing the beer in his belly back out. Wiping his mouth with one long sleeve (that sweater went through a lot that night; he'd have to remember to take it to the dry cleaners) he swayed a little. Shou steadied him by the shoulders and tutted. Hikaru sighed.

"She made me so incredibly happy when she was with me. It only makes sense it would kill me to not have her anymore. Haven't you ever had a bad break up, Fuwa-kun? Well, I suppose you are still very young…"

"No," the boy grimly refuted, "I've had one. The most unbearable…she's now the worst thing about my life."

"Funny, isn't it? She used to be the best thing about your life…"

Shou was about to laugh and say no, Kyoko had never been…but that wasn't true. In a life where parents nagged, schoolgirls annoyed with a surplus of cooties and schoolmates burned with jealousy, his personal slave had worked relentlessly to brighten his day. As soon as Kyoko was old enough she'd taken over most of his responsibilities from his other. Since then there had been no sweets in his lunchbox, no sweaty socks left lying around his room, and no tub of bathwater too hot or too cold. Stupid, servile woman…

They got in line for the Ferris wheel because they had nothing better to do.

"Isn't this a ride for couples?" Hikaru asked presently.

"No," Shoutaru said, noticing something, "These two in front of us are siblings."

Noting the allusion to her, or perhaps recognizing his voice, the sister (Satsuki?) turned. Curiously, she gasped so hard she choked. This of course attracted the brother's attention (Cain. Shou wouldn't easily forget such a foreign name). He smoldered sinisterly at the un-flustered Shou and grasped his sister's shoulders.

"Setsu," right, _**that**_ was her name, "Are you alright?"

"I-Ishibashi (cough) Hikaru-san…"

That kicked Shoutaru's vanity in the shins. Sure he was in disguise but it wasn't even a particularly _**good**_ one. Why no reaction to the infinitely desirable ass Shou was but a hacking head-over-heels cough for Hikaru, who didn't even make music to suit her tastes? Bridge Rock dealt mostly in, well, punk rock while the girl looked like a death metal fan. It irked him even more when he looked closer and saw how much she resembled Kyoko.

"Hello," Hikaru said dutifully, "Nice night, hmm?"

"Can I have an autograph," the girl burst out, red-faced.

"Sure," obliged Hikaru, "Got a pen?"

She hadn't. Ruing it, she was about to let her autograph go when Shou pointed to her shoulder bag and said, "If you have any eyeliner in there," and judging by the amount on her lids she definitely did, "That would work."

She rummaged for it after hesitating a second, and Hikaru signed the white cuff of her black shorts, leaning down so that his hair brushed her bare, nubile belly. The brother twitched. The sister glanced uncertainly at him. Shou felt sick.

"There you go," Hikaru straightened and handed the eyeliner back, "All set, Setsu-san."

"Thank you," Setsuka said, too politely. Shou frowned. Cain gripped his sister's shoulder and suggested that the line to the Ferris wheel was too long (it wasn't) and that she had embarrassed the gentlemen (she hadn't) who probably just wanted to be alone (they didn't. Damn it! The Ferris wheel was _**not**_ only a couple's ride!). Hikaru thought nothing of it when they exited the line, and Shou put it out of this mind soon after as well. As both a serious musician and a human being he had enough on his plate without fretting over a possibly illegal relationship between two strangers.

000

"Mogami-san," Ren broke the scene and let Kyoko's shoulder go, "What happened?"

"I got NG'd twice in one night," she ventured, "because I'm a terrible actress that should crawl into a hole and die?"

"What? No. I mean, you did leave character—I want to know why." Ishibashi Hikaru disrupting her when Fuwa Shou didn't confused him. It crossed his mind that the fangirlish act might not have been faked. Most young girls had a favorite idol. With the #1 in Japan as her sempai and the #2 as her nemesis, Kyoko could well have set her heart on someone lower down the ladder.

She chewed her lip while she thought of an answer and the clip-on ring dropped from her lip. "Oh," she said, and bent to retrieve it. Ren watched her ass and felt disgusted with himself. Or maybe with Cain. It was difficult to tell.

Kyoko, of course, was speedily making what could easily become a life-shattering decision. Telling Ren that she had jumped out of her skin when Hikaru had showed up because he was her colleague and sempai too would mean confessing she'd heard about Ren's underage love interest (and even other, juicier gossip) as Bo. On the other hand, if she lied and Ren saw through it, she was boned. And unlike the rest of Japan, Kyoko did not want to be boned by Tsuruga Ren.

"It's because," she settled for saying, "I wasn't expecting Ishibashi-san to be there. He's part of the LME family, and once Moko-san—um, Kanae-san and I were asked to do Love Me work as part of the audience of Yappa! Kimigure Rock. Also, don't you think Bridge Rock is very talented? It must be so nice to be a band of brothers."

She was babbling because of a desperate instinct for self-preservation, but Ren heard a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl gushing and crushing on her upperclassman. Christ, he'd never before appreciated so thoroughly Katsuki's twisted feelings for his untouchable student. He didn't even register as a blip on her love radar. Hikaru was his age, but more desirable. Hah. Hah.

Kyoko quite talking and waited for the word of Ren to indicate she was in the clear. He didn't know what kind of facial expression he was showing, but nervousness trickled along her features. Suddenly, Ren realized—

Now or never.

"How nice, Mogami-san. But you know, I don't think Setsuka would like Bridge Rock."

She hung her head in shame acknowledged. Kuon, pretending to be Ren, continued his dissection of her performance.

"This has in fact been a bad evening from the start. Maybe the reason you were late has something to do with it?"

He'd only been a normal amount of curious as to the cause behind her tardiness. However, the way she reacted to this mild rebuke—with a guilty flinch and a lowering of the eyes—had him burning to know. He could not stop right now, though…quickly, fire her…

"And despite your stumbles, I was able to stay in character."

"T-that's because," she exclaimed, "Tsuruga-san is a great actor! The greatest! Though I'm not fit to act with him now, every day I aspire to be like—"

Ren chuckled. "I'm flattered you feel that way. Mogami-san, you've done a wonderful job. Too wonderful. I no longer require you to become Cain Heel."

Kyoko had expected either a crushing rejection or a generous nth chance. This grateful letting go threw her off.

"Tsuruga-san…?"

"I know you believe the President asked you to act with me to ensure I ate and slept at the appropriate hours. The truth, however…due to certain circumstances, I had great difficulty getting into and out of BJ's mind. Do you understand?"

Like Katsuki, Kyoko thought. Tsuruga Ren had to be as inexperienced in violence as he had been in love. What, then, was left for him to know well? Failure?

(Yes.)

"I think so, Tsuruga-san."

"Thanks to you, I was able to create a background to put BJ's actor, Cain Heel against. I can enter and exit the character at will. You've done your job, and I hate to be eating up your evenings like I've been doing. Mogami-san, are you listening?"

"Yes," she said with a far-off look, "I did my job? It's over?"

"Thanks for the hard work you put into completing your role. It's a success."

A sudden grin tore through her lips. "It is. It is? Tsuruga-san, I've never accomplished anything before."

The dark haired star took stock of her. Behind them the carnival throbbed on, in front of them a comparatively quiet street reverberated with cars zooming hither and thither. Hadn't accomplished anything? Mogami Kyoko had never accomplished anything? What was the Kyurara soda pop ad, what was Mio? What was getting into LME and causing the formation of a brand new section for her sake?

"Mogami-san…"

"No, I shouldn't say that," the dollop of heaven corrected herself, "I mean…I don't know…completing a job. The Kyurara advert was so quickly done! And Mio's not over just yet. But this—I served a purpose. I see a _**point **_to my performance." She beamed at him. "I helped Tsuruga-san, my honored sempai!"

"Yes, well," the honored sempai, dissatisfied with his status, leaned towards the brusque. "You'll no doubt do many things that will quickly dwarf this moment…"

"I'll never forget this," she rashly promised. "I have to go tell Moko-san!" She glanced at her Setsu'd cell phone. Kanae would be working off her Valentine's Day assignment—something messy.

"Enjoy your evening," Ren didn't think she heard him say as she bowed thrice in rapid succession and ran away. Jelly Woods, that lovable stylist, would return her body to Mogami Kyoko, who would then go forth and cavort with her most previous person, who was also probably her lesbian lover and it didn't even matter because no matter who Kanae _**was**_, she was_** not**_ Tsuruga Ren.

She wasn't Hizuri Kuon.

She wasn't even Cain Heel.

And she, the other she, the Corn-toting Shou-loathing red-blooded Kyoto girl called Kyoko…she was taking it too well. The outer Ren was content in her heartlessness to not see her heartbroken but Kuon had a rather different opinion. She wasn't going to miss him at all? She couldn't be less than joyous to stop spending time with him? Throw the dog a bone, Kyoko. Throw him something to cling to, some hope he doesn't deserve.

Kuon-Ren-Cain began his own sad march to the trailer, every step a fight to not call Kyoko and order her young, naïve ass right back into his dreary, boozy evenings. It was a lot harder to keep straight his reasons for keeping her away when she wasn't with him. All sorts of desires, building up within—they needed to be crushed before he acted on them.

"Ah," he stopped to think, remembering that Lory had made him promise to call and come over if her ever got the brass balls to fire Kyoko. The President hadn't believed Ren capable of it. Well, at least he could surprise the smug all-knowingness out of Takarada Lory with his news, if only for a moment.

He made the call.

A madhouse picked up.

Takarada Lory did not believe he was too old for parties. The evidence of that pulsed and swayed in a vibrantly noisy backdrop while LME's head honcho screamed, "Hello?"

"Boss," Ren said, "I'll text you."

000

When Kotonami Kanae had made a fuss about her assignment being 'something messy' and Lory had said, "Let's compromise," she really should've seen this coming.

"Hello?" the President hollered again into his phone, "Ren? Hmm, he hung up. Kotonami-kun—are you having a nice time?"

She was pressed against him by the rest of the seventy thousand (try knocking off a few zeroes) bodies on the dance floor. Lory's arm around her waist was reliable and protective; his breath on her neck hot and alcoholic. But pleasantly so—Lory wasn't drunk, just nicely buzzed. And _**that**_ was his secret to a good time. His phone trembled with an incoming text message; he waited for her reply rather than turning to it.

"It's, um, very loud. Sir."

He laughed. Only Kanae, one of his beloved Love Me members, his precious diamonds in the rough, could be yelling at the top of her voice and still not be exclaiming anything.

"You should stand closer to the speakers! You won't hear a thing, just the feel of your heartbeat times, oh, a thousand!"

"That's alright, sir. This is actually fine."

"We'll go grab drinks, Kotonami-kun, as soon as I check my phone!"

"No thank you, sir, my phone is ringing too." Kanae was profoundly grateful for Kyoko as she looked at the mute (oh, it was ringing. But she couldn't even tell, the music took up so much earspace), blinking screen. Lory nodded, reaffirmed his hold on her, and guided her out of the club and into the blissfully, ringing with quiet lobby. The bass still ran through the floor and up Kanae's legs but it was easier on her nerves out here.

"Kotonami-kun," Lory said, his voice not even raspy like she knew hers would be when she tried to use it at human decibels again, "Why, you ears are red! How wasteful of your youth; have you never visited a place like this before?"

No, Kanae had never had the time or money or inclination. Instead of telling him this, she lifted her now audible phone in a gesture of apology and answered Kyoko's call.

"What?"

"Moko-san~! You know how I've had work in the evenings lately?"

"No."

"It's ended! The job's over!"

"How much was the paycheck for?"

"Eh?" Kyoko paused on the other side. "Um, there wasn't one."

Kanae narrowed her eyes. A young actor would be denied salary in only a handful of conditions. "You…don't tell me you were fired."

Lory, deeply engrossed in his own phone, glanced up in amusement. "Is that Mogami-kun?"

Kanae covered up Kyoko's train of thought and also the phone's mouthpiece with one hand and affirmed to him that it was. Would he like a word with her? Lory shook his head, snickering. Kanae didn't get it. They turned back to their respective conversations.

"Um, um," Kyoko was answering, "I guess the term is…'employment terminated'…?"

"What? Why? What was this job anyway?"

"…Community theater?"

Kanae rolled her eyes, hard. Lory, having just sent off a text, was watching her. He gave her an inscrutable thumbs-up sign. She smiled weakly at him.

"Kyoko, you idiot. Are you asking me or telling me?"

A thud on the other end signaled Kyoko's swooning over the use of her first name. Kanae could've shot herself. Various squealing, squeaky onomatopoeias of joy ensued, following by the sound of Kyoko halting and harassing passers-by to inform them of her impressive progress with her best friend. Kanae hung up.

Lory looked up. "Ready to rejoin the party, Kotonami-kun?"

"No sir, I'm calling her back." The reply was automatic and issued in self-interest. "She doesn't have very good signal, I'm afraid."

She made the call.

A madwoman answered.

"Moko-san~ would you like to go have ice cream with me?"

As in extricate herself from the President's company? Kanae couldn't say yes fast enough. Takarada Lory was very understanding. The love between two best friends was dependent on these times of small celebration. Besides, he had to go visit Tsuruga Ren. The poor dear superstar had just lost something he quite fancied.

000

Ren smiled like moonlight at the girl. She was about Maria's age. He complimented her dress and signed her purse. She blushed, devastated by his adult charm, and hid behind her mamma's legs. The father was a rich producer. He thanked Ren's indulgence, asked about his work, half-joked about wanting to produce his next feature film, and invited him to brunch the next weekend.

"Manager willing," Ren gently jested, referring to Yukihito's power over his schedule. The producer acknowledged it ruefully, allowed his daughter to say her goodbyes and led his yesteryear actress wife away.

Thus was the clientele at Mélange, the swanky haunt of Tokyo's rich and famous, where everyone was too cool to be star-struck. Ren was special, though, and couldn't escape adulation even here. The circular bar he sat at was near the entrance; deeper in was the more comfortable seated dining. An extension off to the side (separated by curtains of beads) boasted squashy beanbags and low tables for teenagers rolling in dough to roll around in, puffing at waterpipes and plunking down largesse to commandeer the occasional beer or real champagne flute.

Ren slurped down the last of his mojito and checked his phone, frowning at the text conversation between him and his liege.

_I did it._

_Ren! You did? You've agreed to marry Maria?_

_Don't joke. The other thing. The one you thought I couldn't do. _

_Ah, Mogami-kun…are you sure? She's speaking to Kotonami-kun right now and there doesn't seem anything wrong. _

_She took it very well. _

_Yes, I see. You'll need a drink. I'm in Roppongi—are you close by?_

_Yes. Mélange? _

_Done._

"Freshen your drink?" asked the bartender, sweeping aside the empty glass. Ren declined; he'd want his wits sharp for dealing with Lory. The bartender moved away and came back in a bit. Ren pointed at a picture of one of the house drinks hung here and there.

"That. I'd like to order that."

The bartender looked. "The Flaming Lamborghini? Flashy drink."

"I'm expecting a flashy guest," Ren explained, "Can you bring one as soon as he shows up?"

"No problem, Tsuruga-sama. I'll keep the tab open, then?"

"Mm-hmm," Ren smiled—Ren always smiled; it would've driven Kuon nuts to do that so much—and hoped to the Christian God Takarada Lory would skip the dramatic entry. The last time he'd waltzed into Mélange (literally, with a whole court load of ladies and gentlemen) the management had threatened to eighty-six him for life.

Lory came quietly, for Lory. Dressed as the King of Swing and strumming a 1968 Hagstrom Viking, he barely provoked a raised eyebrow here and there. Tokyo was slowly becoming jaded to his tastes, a phenomenon that greatly worried Ren.

Spotting his foster son, the fun father sauntered over and crooned in respectable English, "Tell me baby, are you lonesome tonight?"

Ren said, "That's really creepy."

Lory Presley said, "It's called rubberneckin'."

The bartender saved the day. With a polite smile he set down a cocktail glass of Sambuca and Kahlua and lit it on fire. Sticking a straw in it, he withdrew with a wink at Ren, who had to admire his timing and skill. Lory was seduced completely.

"I love these! Ren, have you tried one?"

"A while ago," Ren reminisced, "You bought it for me. I burnt my eyebrow. Terrible business."

"You know what else is terrible," Lory drank it in one go and refilled it with two shot glasses of blue curacao, "What happened to you today. You lost a talisman. A good luck goddess. And one I gifted to you with so much love, too."

"President…" Ren was tired, Ren wanted to go home. Ren wasn't getting away without hearing what Lory had to say. "Let me order a drink."

"Let me order it for you!"

"That's quite unnecessary. Bartender—"

"He'll have a fuzzy navel," interjected Lory. The bartender cast a pitying eye over Ren, who was after all the omega to Lory's roaring, flamboyant alpha, and busied himself with the drink. A fuzzy navel wasn't a gross part of anatomy, it was peach schnapps with lemonade, a total chick drink. For a guy to be caught with it would be like begging to have his man card confiscated. Lory was being an asshole. Ren attempted to communicate his embarrassment to the President, but the older man signaled for him to suck it up. The blond-turned-brunet submitted. Lory propped his chin up on his hand and sadly surveyed Kuu's son. (The original, and the best!)

"Ren," said he, "How do you feel?"

The hottie pulled a face at his highball glass. "Emasculated."

"Ren," Lory repeated, "Do you realize what happened tonight? You've made your call. The first girl you fell in love with—you allowed her to walk away, and committed yourself to not committing to her. How. Do. You. Feel."

He felt like shit. He wanted her, from the core of his being he wanted her. But then, he wanted also from the core of his being to see his parents again, together, and collapse into their smothering love as Kuon. That had to wait. So did his thing for Kyoko. Until she was old enough…until she was over Shou…until he found peace, until he stopped loving her…

Lory held out his arms, open wide with no pretense, no frivolity. Raw, accepting. The closest thing Tsuruga Ren had to a father. The broken young bird leaned his head against his chest, and Lory rubbed his shoulders and back, taking in what he could of Ren's longing. The bartender bobbed away in empathy, and the low-key chatter in the restaurant didn't quite drown out Ren's enormous sigh.

"You know," Lory began, "Ren, I love you. Enough to tell you this: you should be able to talk about love and the angst it causes to not an old man but a friend. Someone your age. Someone who knows your story…"

Ren lay still against him, listening but not replying. They'd been through this before. No one in the wide world knew how exactly Hizuri Kuon had become Tsuruga Ren, not even Kuu and his wife. Lory himself was privy to the details only because of how closely associated he'd been to the skeletons in the idol's closet—and that same association prevented Ren from coming to him on the really bad nights, when memories were like shark infested waters he drowned in. Lory had been after his life to get him to open up about it to another human being but Tsuruga Ren, pathetically enough, had no friends. Not one.

"President," Ren said, "Boss. Who could I possibly talk to?"

In the past, Lory had always gotten stuck at this part of the conversation. However, he'd been thinking long and hard recently, and there was a person. Not a friend, exactly, but nonetheless Yashiro Yukihito wanted Ren to be happy and successful, and knew something about the man's feelings for Kyoko. He was trustworthy, he was the right amount of nosy to find out everything if Ren gave him something to start on. Hell, he was Ren's manager. Lory trusted him to manage this. So he told his little boy that.

"Yashiro-san?" Ren looked shocked. "No. That would be so unprofessional."

"Think about it," Lory inveigled. He wasn't above bullying, it just wasn't called for. Ren had to spill his secrets willingly or it would be meaningless. "Drive home—you haven't drunk enough to not be able to—drive home, and think about it. Better yet, drive to _**his**_ home and think about it. But don't tell me it's unprofessional, Ren. Yashiro-kun thinks of himself as your big brother, even if he hasn't fully realized what a challenge that can be, and _**you**_? Well, I hear when he's sick you visit him at home and he as to turf you out. So don't tell me your feelings for each other are only professional. Go. Wait—buy me another drink before you do."

000

Ren drove.

Ren was a _**good**_ driver.

Except for that one time, of course.

Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick of the psychotic grins, Rick of the good advice. Rick of late nights, sleepily insisting they go on a midnight drive for a midnight snack; Rick of early mornings, buck naked and not able to remember how he ended up that way. Rick on the beach, brown shades striking against his tan, Rick with Kuon, a guardian angel more potent than the magic of any girl the young boy thought he loved.

After Rick, Kuon's face had become un-cute and his tastes jaded. After Rick, Kuon had been fired from so many jobs he couldn't even count them all. After Rick, Kuon had gone wild and joined a teen bike gang until Takarada Lory dragged him in, gave him a new job, and threw him at the mercy of a manager. And when that manager, new to his business, asked his name, Kuon had opened his mouth and thought for a while.

And then he'd said, "Tsuruga Ren."

Yashiro Yukihito introduced himself as well, and then there'd been no looking back.

Kuon's new job was to be LME's face of the decade. To be Japan's biggest selling human resource. To be someone else until he could be adult enough to deal with his guilt, and his grief.

Ren drove.

Who was Yukihito? Merely a manager that fancied himself a matchmaker. Did he even care about his charge's deep dark past? Did he even want to be burdened by the swirling monsters that sat in Ren's head?

Ren stopped at a red light and watched two young friends, girls, go by arm-in-arm. One of them was Kyoko. She was beautiful. She thought she'd squandered her life thus far on a jerkass. Ren agreed. Yukihito thought Ren should ask her out. Ren knew better. Kyoko was on the rebound. Rebound relationships rarely lasted. They were therapeutic, soothing to the ego, and rarely lasted.

Rick was his ex. Yukihito could be his rebound. And then he could go hook up with Kyoko. Or Hiroaki. Or Shou.

Probably not Shou.

Probably Ren _**was**_ too drunk to drive…

Ren knocked.

Yukihito opened the door and looked surprised.

"Yashiro-san, may I spend the night here with you?"

A lightning-quick grin after Yukihito checked his young man over and assured himself that there was nothing urgently wrong. Four limbs, one nose. A beating heart and focused eyes.

"Sure. Will you pay me?"

**x.x.x.x.x.x **

**For the Hikaru Challenge, as issued by Jhiz and Fangurl Ayane. The prompt proceeds thus:**

"**In five chapters or less, write a story that keeps true to the character's personalities (which means having a rational reason for personal growth) and allows Mogami Kyoko to not only see Ishibashi Hikaru as a potential suitor but also acknowledge him as a forerunner for her heart (in other words, establish that he has a portion of her heart reserved for him that says 'boyfriend' not senpai, co-star or even best guy friend). Alternative reality fictions will not count as part of the challenge (in other words, no removing Ren or Sho from the universe to make it work)."**

**Wish me luck! :D **


	2. Truth Will Out

**Sigh For Me **

**A/N: The focus of this story isn't on Ren, but I just can't ignore him. I really believe if he set out to stop them Hikaru wouldn't stand a chance in hell with Kyoko. So I gotta reason him out. And I need his past. And I don't know it. And I made it up. And, and, wow. Hi. Roll with me. **

**Chapter Two: Truth Will Out**

**x.x.x.x.x.x **

"Hey, wake up. I smell breakfast. I can't go downstairs alone."

Kanae nudged her sleeping friend's shoulder with one unshod foot. Kyoko murmured unintelligibly, rolled over, and smiled. Grabbing Kanae's ankle, she hugged the foot.

"Moko-san~ Good morning to you."

The brunette flailed her arms futilely before coming crashing down. Kyoko woke up with a start and Kanae glared at her.

"That's so annoying!"

Last night's ice cream had given them the energy to go on a long walk, taking turns strolling with Kyoko's bicycle. Kyoko, reminding Kanae that she'd yet to sleep over at the Darumaya, had bugged and begged the girl home. No man had ever put such Herculean effort into conquering Kanae, and maybe if one had she wouldn't be Kanae, exactly. But those were blasphemous thoughts. The landlady of the Darumaya was ready with their meal—her husband had today created a sumptuous platter of small fish and rice cakes in funny shapes, served on a shallow black cracked-glass dish with Kyoto-style miso soup on the side.

"Oh," Kanae was embarrassed, "I'm not a guest. You shouldn't have taken the trouble."

"Not at all," the landlady said with a motherly smile. Her husband cleared his throat and turned away from Kyoko's shining face. "You've been taking such good care our Kyoko-chan, this is the least we could do for you!"

The venerable guest looked down at her feet, unaccustomed to using politesse but becoming more familiar with the guilt of not being nicer to Kyoko, even if the girl thought she was already being treated like a queen. The loveless child that loved her nonetheless held her hand and squeezed.

"Moko-san is the best. Let's dig in! You have to go to work today, don't you? With Hiou-kun~"

"Yeah," Kanae said. She couldn't be sweeter than this. Eighteen years of sophisticated ferocity could not be dissolved by one bright bubble of girlish excitement. "What are you doing today?"

"I have nothing," Kyoko said, "Dark Moon is almost done airing—I have to go tour for promotions in a couple of weeks. Box R doesn't shoot Natsu-sama this whole month. Also, Yappa! Kimigure Rock has just finished its first season. Good timing, too."

"How?"

"My sempai broke up with his girlfriend," Kyoko explained, "He can take a few days off to celebrate."

"One of the Bridge Rock brothers broke up?" Kanae frowned. "And…celebrate? Don't you mean recover?"

"You're right," Kyoko helped herself to more fish, "Hikaru-san was crying pretty bad."

Kanae was like Shou's soul mate in her reaction to hearing that someone could be stupid enough to get their heart broken and then waste time crying over it. Kyoko put her chopsticks down and wondered.

"Why do people ever fall in love? It never ends well."

"People are dumb," Kanae consoled her, "Don't worry about it. So I have work—how are you gonna spend your day?"

"Clock in at LME, at the Love Me section." Kyoko didn't look much enthused at the prospect until something struck her. "I won't be alone! Amamiya-san will be there too!"

"Amamiya?" Kanae sniffed. Love Me's number two and number three had a lot in common, but so did the north poles of two magnets. Even before finding out Chiori was the nutcase that had shoved Kyoko down a flight of stairs Kanae had been loath to let the two be alone together. Number one's feelings for two was a form of love, and like any love Kanae didn't expect it to end well. So she would simply not let it end, never let it be taken by anyone else. "Hah. I saw her on her on television the other day. She was making a total fool of herself."

"She said she kind of had fun, though." They rose to clear away the meal together. Kanae thought to rush—there were still showers to be taken and clothes to be chosen. Since she'd have to borrow something from Kyoko's closet, it would take a while for find anything she could stand being caught in.

"I think you forgave her too easily," Kanae was stubborn, "The woman tried to kill you."

"Moko-san, don't be that way~ she couldn't help it; she was caught up in her past. I'm okay, aren't I?" Kyoko spread her arms and leaned in. "You can hold me and make sure."

"Ew," Kanae said, and that was that. They went upstairs where Kyoko suggested showering together (to save time! Honest!) and Kanae threw a pillow and nearly a fit. Fifteen minutes apiece later, they were taking stock of the younger girl's clothes, Kanae in a towel and Kyoko in her short pink uniform. If Kanae squinted and was being more honest than she would ever really be, she would say the bleached-hair girl looked kinda. Well. Sexy. Her legs were long as soba noodles, and the color of honeyed milk. They chose an outfit for Kanae, who parted ways with Kyoko at the bus stop. The original Love Me blossom rode her bicycle to LME at the speed of light, or something like it.

000

Hikaru didn't like this.

"Okay, so this one here…that's the brake?"

Hikaru didn't like this one bit.

"That's the _**gear**_, Fuwa-kun. That pedal by your foot is the brake. And I really don't think—"

"Unwind, Ishibashi." Shoutaru had always been quick to drop the honorific from a person's name. "I'm a good driver."

"Yeah, but how well can you stop the car?"

"Haha, hah. Okay. You ready to go?"

Hikaru tugged his seat belt tighter and contemplated sitting in the back seat. But then who would take the wheel when Shou impaled himself in a horrific accident caused by confusing the hand brake for the stick shift? No, the passenger's side would do. He left the door unlocked so he could leap out at a moment's notice if it came to that.

The teenager gunned the engine and maneuvered through the parking lot with acceptable smoothness. As they breached the exit, Hikaru craned his neck to look at the building they were leaving behind, and fancied he saw Shouko standing on her balcony high above, howling at the wind about how Hikaru was going to get her young gigolo killed.

"Hey," said Shou, "This is easy. I think I'll speed up a bit."

"No!" Hikaru shouted. The blond stared, half his gaze still on the road and one foot still itching to step on it. "Fuwa-kun, I know I said LME appreciates punctuality but they would like it better if I made it there in one piece. Just saying."

Dissatisfied, Shou continued inching along the street. "You're a sissy, you know that?"

"Yep," Hikaru said, "You mentioned it earlier when we were at karaoke."

And again at the baseball cage; twice at the gaming arcade and he'd snickered it when they'd been swinging around the jungle gym at a children's park around four in the morning. It was after the park, when they'd been trying to gather their wits and money to see which places were open to grab a really early breakfast that Shouko's call had finally come through to Shou's phone. She had asked the star to march his ass home right that instant or, or, or who knew what she would do. How long did he need for some fresh air? He couldn't even have the courtesy to call? She'd given a police complaint, almost: what? A complaint! A missing idol! _**Almost. **_Her common sense as a manager told her to wait till dawn; if Shou had been alright all along it would've made a mess. Shou was eternally thankful to her, had he told her today? He hadn't, and he didn't need to; she had just about had it with him. _**She **_didn't know he was okay; _**she**_ was worrying herself to death. Shou was so sorry. Shouko was the best. He'd be right home—was it okay to bring a guest?

At Shouko's apartment, which Hikaru hadn't known was Shou's home, no one had gotten much sleep. Shou spent the first hours of the morning trying to get back in Shouko's good graces (to great success) by blaming everything on Hikaru, who had fallen into a sort of catatonia in front of the television. He hadn't turned on the TV this early before. Some of these shows were so _**strange…**_

He dozed off and woke up at seven in the morning to find Shouko fork-feeding Shou little pieces of microwaved tater tots. His ringing phone attracted his attention; his manager had called to wake him up with the reminder that his presence was required at LME headquarters at eight—Lory had made an appointment to discuss the break-up.

"Oh, fuck."

A maelstrom of activity had followed, and when Shouko had claimed her turn in the shower Shou had grabbed her car keys and Hikaru's arm to sneak out.

"Whoa," Shou said, "Uh-oh," Shou said. Hikaru tried to take stock of his surroundings, he really did, but he was drunk and hungover and sleep-deprived all at once; all he saw was a flash of neon pink and Shoutaru's desperate fiddling with the gear—seriously? This was happening?

The girl's bike tipped over and deposited her on the curb with a sharp clonk to the head. A few bystanders exploded into murmurs of interest as two famous faces alighted from the offending vehicle. Shou stood still—when he'd registered Kyoko's presence in the bike lane and noted how he was swerving, he'd almost immediately fought to correct himself. Almost. There had been one idle flash of murderous intent that remarked, blah, die. He'd never seen himself as a bad person before.

"Fuwa-kun," Hikaru snapped, "Call 110. She's bleeding. Excuse me," he stood tall—he _**was not **_tall but he managed—against a man who'd brought out a phone. "No pictures, please. This is our friend. Fuwa-kun, what are you doing? Make the call."

Shou did, while Hikaru lifted Kyoko and placed her in the backseat of the car. He was no medic, but he knew leaving her in the sun was less preferable to moving her into air-conditioning. Besides, fewer photo ops this way. He made Shou get into the car too before he stopped obstructing the morning Tokyo traffic. He pulled over in the parking lot of the next building and bribed the security guard to not make a fuss until the prime parking spot was required by someone that had reserved it.

Shou sat quietly, a stupid kid that could've hurt someone. Hikaru rubbed his temples and thought like a cunning adult.

"It's not so bad. If she doesn't want to press charges you'll be off with a warning. You're only a learner after all. Of course by the times this matter is settled Shouko-san will make sure I'm only a festering corpse in Tokyo Bay…are you scared of her too?"

"No," Shou hoarsely said, guilty as Cain in front of God, "I'm scared because…I lied to you. You agreed to let me drive 'cause I told you I have a learner's license but…I don't. Have one."

Hikaru stared. Kyoko, dazed but conscious in the back seat, groaned and muttered Kanae's name. Her sempai turned back to look at her in worry, and looked out also at the ambulance racing towards them.

"Okay," Hikaru said, "Looks like I'm the one that was driving."

000

"Ren, have a piece of toast."

"Ah…no thanks, Yashiro-san."

Breakfast at Tiffany's—hahaha, no, I mean Yukihito's—was Ren-sized. A bowl of cereal and a glass of apple juice. Buttered toast and freshly squeezed oranges for the manager. If Yukihito had expected last night's Ren to stay up sharing the secrets of his soul with his sister/brother/manager, he was disappointed. After making awkward small talk and admitting he'd gotten rid of Kyoko from his evenings the brunet had crashed on his couch. Yukihito had naturally wanted to hear more, but that could wait till morning. Ren after all would not be here if he didn't want to talk.

And talk he did. Just not about what Yukihito wanted.

"Yashiro-san, do you know the President's son?"

"Maria's father? Ren, why would I _**not**_ know—"

"No. The President's younger son."

A slow sadness filled Yukihito's eyes as he figured out who Ren was referring to. Yes, he did know. It had been seven years, hadn't it? Back then Yukihito was an outsider that only saw another tragedy of fame. It was after becoming Ren's manager and meeting Lory personally that the full despair left by Takarada Otto's suicide had sunk in.

Maria's father was born to Lory before he achieved fame and success. Thirteen full years before he became a household name, in fact. The elder son was old enough to be amused and irritated by the media's glare, having enjoyed just enough childhood to know he couldn't enjoy it under the kind of supervision the gossip columns provided. Takarada son caught smoking! Takarada son on a date! Takarada son taking a shit! Ew. No, Kouki was not happy about it. But he had had his time of freedom, watched his father struggle for his dreams and reconcile his ambition with his mother's. He wouldn't ruin it for them.

His little brother, however…

Otto was twelve years younger than Kouki. The first thing he knew when his mamma left the hospital with him was the flash of a camera and a maybe some residual blindness took root in him even as a newborn. He grew up with his first step, first words, and school grades published in rag mags. Having inherited more of Lory's good looks than his brother, Otto was the media's favorite son.

But did Otto reciprocate the camera's love?'

"No," Yukihito recollected at a snail's pace, "He was a terrible child. Always throwing tantrums in public if there was a reporter dogging them—and because he made a fuss more reporters used to show up! My mother used to…"

The whole of Japan used to do it. Analyze that child's behavior. Compare him to his brother and father. Lory's wife had given birth to the nation's new hobby. Otto grew up famous for his mercurial mood changes. He was so very confused…did he want to be his brother, who had a free childhood? Did he want to be his father, whose home was the world of showbiz? His mother once told him to just be Otto, but who was that? Everyone at school knew him as Lory's son. How could Otto be Otto? If he just did as he pleased...

Lory was only one man; the danger was everywhere. If his sons came to a party—no matter how tame or glamorous—they were inundated with attention. Young aspiring models and actresses would fawn over the older son, who became introverted and shied away. The girls would then turn to the younger brother that accepted attention like you and I would accept a breeze. They smelled good and let him sit on their laps. They fed him delicacies and laughed when he licked the cream off their fingers. Rick sometimes joked that Otto had never been a virgin. It was pretty dark humor.

"Rick?" Yukihito was understandably confused. "Who's Rick?"

Oh, Rick. He came later. He came soon. He came into the story when Lory, wising up to how lopsided his son's development was, moved his family out of Japan for a year. The father was clued in late. So was the mother. Well both of them were with careers: they trusted their sons to be happy. They trusted them to understand. The elder one was, the elder one did. It was all very well for Kouki; Otto was the one with the short end of the stick. He had _**never**_ had their parents' undivided attention. He _**always**_ had to share everyone with the paparazzi.

So you'll forgive Lory—who knew he should work harder at home but thought he could start tomorrow—for not knowing anything about his younger son until his elder one found him one day in the bathroom, throwing up all the sleeping pills he'd swallowed.

You'll forgive Lory…

Won't you?

"That's awful," Yukihito looked sick, "I never knew…that's awful."

It gets better before getting worse.

Lory moved the family to Texas, in America. No one knew them in Texas. There was the friend of Lory's that they lived off, but Chris Montoya didn't count. He owned a ranch, for Christ's sake. He was a buddy from college on whose wide acres Lory sublet a cottage and set up home with a wreck of a wife and a mess of a son. Chris had a son too, even if he had no wife. The late Meaghan Montoya had passed away just three years ago, taken by an arduous battle with cancer. Rick, her son, didn't look like he'd grown up watching his mom die. He was sixteen, four years older than Otto. He was Chris' only hope in life. A hick town boy with a big city dreams. The boys in town admired him, the girls adored him.

Why should he care about some Japanese-American family on his father's land?

Why should he take an interest in a twelve year old kid that thought he hated the world and himself?

Why should Rick befriend Otto? Why should Otto love him like a brother?

Hello.

Otto didn't have to share Rick with _**anybody**_.

"And Rick?" Yukihito was getting into it more now that there was hope for a happy interlude. "How did he meet Otto?"

Blueberry muffins. Mama Takarada made them and put a batch on the windowsill to cool, and asked Otto to watch over them. Rick, having just finished making mischief on the neighbor's ranch, smelled them. He stole one. Otto yelled at him. Rick insulted his parentage. Otto swore. Rick swore better. Otto threw a ladle. Rick offered to show him how good muffins tasted with honey and goats' milk. Otto was charmed.

And that was that.

"Yashiro-san," Ren interrupted himself to say, "I can't tell you what happened between them. As far as Otto was concerned, Rick was family. Rick adored him, but never knew…never knew how exactly he'd wound up on his ranch. He didn't question it, and Otto never willingly gave an answer. A year passed. The President thought he saw his son being happy. So he took him back to Japan, where Kouki and LME had been struggling along without them.

"Otto's happiness stayed back. Rick promised to come to Tokyo the next year, but a good opportunity came up—a summer workshop in Atlanta, Georgia that might up his ante enough to get him into Berkeley. He apologized to Otto, but it was too late. Otto had fought hard to hold out for Rick's visit. When it didn't happen, he couldn't stand it. He tried to stowaway on a ship and go to America. Of course it didn't work—the President was scared, and tried talking to him."

Otto couldn't just run like that; could he please understand? If he wanted to see Rick that badly he should ask…

Lory didn't know how to deal with this son. Parents didn't receive instruction manuals for manic depressive children.

Otto didn't know how to deal with himself either.

So, shortly before his fourteenth birthday…

Yukihito winced.

"Don't. I know how this story ends. It was all over the news…"

"Yashiro-san, the story isn't over."

Two years later, Lory visited Los Angeles to see his old protégé or whoever, Hizuri Kuu. And it was unbearable. What do you suppose he saw there? Sunset Boulevard? The Shamu Show? Santa Monica pier?

Or another Otto in the making.

Kuu was Lory, and Kuon was his son. Lory hadn't seen the listless eyes of his own baby in the starting stages, but Kuon—oh gods, Kuon—oh, Kuu wouldn't survive his son—Kuon.

"The President knew something had to be done," Ren recited to a morbidly bound Yukihito, "So he took Kuon away. He promised him a fresh start in Japan, where no one would know him. Kuon was fifteen when he left home—a year older than Otto ever was."

Lory saw hope for him. But you can't just whisk a minor citizen of the United States of America off to a foreign land without parental consent. Lory deposited his load on a ranch near College Station, Texas. In the care of Chris Montoya and his son, who knew Kuon. (Broke college students could hitchhike from San Francisco to Los Angeles easier than to Texas. Rick came to the Hizuri household for holidays and went home for summer.) Lory went back to California to convince Julie that she had to give her son to him.

Rick.

Oh, Rick.

He'd blamed himself for Otto's…

He'd been horrified. For a boy whose mother had fought for every last breath she took, a death by one's will was an alien concept. He'd seen death lounging by his mom's bed for months. He'd never seen it around Otto. He'd never seen it sneak an attack.

He'd never noticed it in Kuon before. When Lory told Rick Kuon reminded him of Otto, he took to him like a drowning man to anything, anything. He and Kuon, friends before, now became something stronger and deeper.

"Months later, when he went to Japan and Rick went back to school, Kuon took the happiness they'd had."

"Unlike Otto," Yukihito surmised.

"Unlike Otto."

Rick came to see Kuon the next summer. Rick, in Tokyo! Rick, with his good looks surpassing even Kuon's. Rick charmed the ladies off their feet. Kuon was kind of a natural at it, too.

A full three weeks of fun and frolic, of perfection; of looking for work during the day and getting stoned out of their skulls at night. Back then no one believed Kuon could act, he was that pretty. But everyone wanted that body on their posters and runways, wearing their clothes. Kuon was a male model. Rick teased him without mercy.

And one day, it just ended.

"Kuon killed him," Rick said without a catch, "They were too poor to afford the city entertainment, so they used to go out to the countryside on the weekends. Someone was always having a party. On Sunday night, on the way home, Rick was in one car and Kuon was in another. Kuon was over sixteen already, he had a learner's permit. He drove. He was the only sober one, he had to drive. Kuon was a good driver. Except for that one night."

The car ahead of them had stopped on the narrow, two-lane road to let the boys out. They stood on the side of the road, spaced out like beads on a necklace. They faced the fields, pissing into the wind.

Kuon's passengers urged him to overtake the loitering car using the other lane. They were drunk. He wasn't. How the hell did he not see the ruck? It was bearing down on them with no headlights. He swerved, heart thudding, right in front of their friends' car.

Rick was pissing into the wind.

He skipped back, laughing, to avoid getting any on himself.

Kuon had swerved. It was the truck!

Rick understood. It was the truck.

"My name is Hizuri Kuon. I killed a man and changed my name. I couldn't stand it and ran away. For a few months I was outside the law, out of my mind. And I couldn't stand that either, so I came crawling back. Yashiro-san, sorry for lying. My name isn't Tsuruga Ren. It's…Hizuri…Kuon."

Yukihito took a deep breath, looked over Ren's shoulder, and shouted, "Turn up the volume! The volume!"

Ren rose from his chair to watch the mad manager skitter around for the remote. The television, on mute, suddenly found a voice for the newswoman to go with the text scrolling on the bottom.

_Rash celebrity crashes car: puts 'Mio' in hospital. _

"…at a little past eight this morning, singer Fuwa Shou and rock star Ishibashi Hikaru caused a collision in Shinjuku…"

"What!" Ren hissed, and Yukihito shushed him.

"…authorities have issued a statement saying that Ishibashi was driving Fuwa to LME Agency when they were blindsided by Mogami Kyoko, a rising actress that plays the role of Mio in the hit drama, Dark Moon, also starring Tsuruga Ren. Tsuruga is of course known for his work in…"

"Bullshit," Ren rarely swore, but then Kyoko was rarely run over by her ex-boyfriend and accomplice. Yukihito changed the channel. A well-dressed man was speaking on the same subject elsewhere.

"…eyewitnesses claim they saw Fuwa leaving the car from the driver's side and that he later took the passenger seat after Ishibashi moved the unconscious Mogami into the vehicle. This account is clearly at odds with the authorities version of the accident, which occurred in Shinjuku this morning at 8:11 AM. Stay with us, we'll be back—"

"I don't believe it," Ren breathed as the channel switched again. This one obviously carried fan bias; a peppy young girl insisted Kyoko had caused the accident when she was overwhelmed at seeing both highly desirable stars at once.

"That's it." Yukihito threw the remote aside, pale as milk, "Ren, get your keys."

Ren was already at the door. "Yashiro-san, bring your gloves."

In the car Ren put the pedal to the metal and Yukihito put his gloves on before touching or even looking directly at Ren's phone. A well-placed call to LME told them what hospital Kyoko was at. After that it was just a matter of getting there.

000

Shou put his head in his hands and groaned.

Hikaru walked into Kyoko's private room and looked at the T.V. mounted on the wall.

"Fuwa-kun, watching it is going to kill you."

"It got out. That our stories don't match. I've screwed shit up for you—sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Hikaru said grimly, "I was overdue for trouble anyway. At least we're not rookies—for Kyoko-chan this will be the most publicity she's gotten all year. How embarrassing."

Shoutaru swallowed. "She scares me. What if she uses this chance to ruin my reputation? Make it seem like I was out just to get her?"

His becoming-friend sat down on the visitors' loveseat with a frump. "I don't know what you've heard about her," he frowned, "But Kyoko-chan's…well, she's a doll. You watch. She's going to wake up and apologize to you for existing, or something."

Some while ago Kyoko had seen Shou peck a puppy on the cheek and accused him of being a womanizer who charmed everyone but her. Now he saw that she too gave him differential callousness—and he was perversely smug to know that, though he didn't show it through the worry eating at him.

"You don't understand. She hates me."

"You're reading too much into your rivalry," dismissed Hikaru. He was bone tired, and here he was trying to make a stranger feel better. Shou felt like a complete douchebag. _**He**_ was supposed to be helping Hikaru cope, not the other way around. The blond was still freaked out by how thoughtless he'd been though—how close he'd come to actually killing Kyoko. His head was spinning. His throat was burning. Fuck, did he feel like crying? Hikaru put an arm around his shoulder and leaned back on the cushions, closing his eyes. Shou should too. Get some shut-eye. Stop feeling like this. Stop…

The door and opened and Shouko was there; Shou was on his feet the next second and in her arms the second after that. Hikaru averted his eyes to be polite. The older woman seemed alarmed, like she wasn't used to her…whatever clinging in public for her comfort. She gave his shoulders an awkward squeeze and gave Hikaru an oddly plaintive glance. He spoke up clearly and deliberately:

"Kyoko-chan broke her wrist, but she'll make a full recovery. Of course her work will be interrupted for a while but seeing as how the official story has me as the offender LME is prepared to compensate for the…uh, I think they're calling it 'sibling roughhousing'." He used air quotes to denote his bemusement.

Shou twitched in apprehension, wanting to bury his head in Shouko's lap. He'd slapped her face and she'd tried to kill him. She would probably now drive him to a deeper circle of hell for every inch of cast. It was enough to set any man trembling.

Hikaru read the panic in the kid's expression and tried to put it down.

"Seriously, Fuwa-kun, she won't cause you any trouble except maybe when she falls at your feet for forgiveness and makes you feel like a heel. Are you listening?"

"I don't know," even Shouko seemed unconvinced, "When it's that girl…"

Hikaru lost his patience. "What in the name of—"

"Long story short," Shou abruptly needed Hikaru to stop making light of the situation, "We dated. We broke up. She hates me. Hey, I do too. Hate her."

"Huh," Hikaru said, "Guess there was truth to those rumors after all? Dated…hang on," he squinted at Shoutaru with sudden alacrity in bloodshot eyes, "Is she the one you were talking about last night? …Are _**you**_ the reason she's so scary when anyone mentions love?"

The answers to his questions would come later. A nurse stuck his head into the waiting room and reported that Tsuruga Ren was demanding to see the patient, and since she was napping Hikaru was expected to decide whether to let the man in or not. As the brunet exclaimed a complete affirmation, Shoutaru followed him out to meet his ex-girl's guy friend, muttering something that sounded like 'fuck my life'.

Shouko was not impressed.

000

"Tsuruga-san!" Kyoko was awake to greet him, pupils dilated from all the excitement and some painkillers, "Do you think when Moko-san comes here she'll pat my head and sing, 'pain, pain, go away'? On account of that would make being run over totally worth it."

Ren collapsed into the seat Shou and Hikaru had shared. Aside from the cast she was eager to have people sign, and various bruises the doctor had given her a precautionary tetanus shot for, the girl seemed unfazed. Ren was fazed. Hikaru and Shoutaru stood at the door; Yukihito peered worriedly into her face and strangled the bunch of balloon strings he was holding.

"Heavens, Kyoko-chan, what's happened to you?"

"With all due respect," Hikaru said with all due respect, "She seems perfectly normal to me."

A doctor came in just then to see that she was still alright and to announce that they were to shortly expect Takarada Lory. Also could her visitors please buzz off? She should nap more. The men moved out of her room main and into the antechamber adjacent. Kyoko waved goodbye.

Yukihito stared at Hikaru bizarrely. "How would you know about her normal behavior…?"

"Ishibashi Hikaru," the brunet bowed, "Kyoko-chan is my co-worker on the show Yappa! Kimigure Rock."

"What?" Ren stared bizarrely at him too. "I've never seen her on the show."

"Sure you have." He thought about it. "No, you're right—you probably haven't. She plays Bo."

Something drained out of Ren. He wondered if it was his faith in life. "The duck?"

"The chicken," corrected Hikaru, "He's pretty popular, because she's so cute. We adore her on and off the sets."

Okay, what? Off-set adoration? Ren remembered Kyoko's reaction to Hikaru at the carnival last night. Off-set adoration! He was as horrified as he was angry. Off-set, Kyoko was the girl he loved. On-set, Kyoko was the chicken that gave him love advice. What was up with that anyway? Wasn't she desperately scared of love? Or was she only desperately oblivious to Ren's feelings? The last time he felt this inadequate was the first time he'd been fired.

So she couldn't see him as a man, but Ishibashi Hikaru had made a fangirl out of her…

This was all Shou's fault, Ren thought, and turned to him in well-groomed aggression. Hikaru stepped between them, big brown eyes bloodshot with bags the size of a diva's luggage. Ren's anger spiked. Obviously hungover and out driving in the morning. What an asshole.

"Tsuruga-san, I should explain. Since we're all from the same agency—"

"Not all," Ren forced a bit of politeness into his voice. Hikaru glanced at Shou, who scowled.

"Please take my word that Fuwa-kun is as good as one of us. For now. Anyway, what happened was—"

"Was he driving, or were you?"

Hikaru committed himself to the lie. Takarada Lory alone would hear the truth. "I was, Tsuruga-san. It's completely my fault—"

"Obviously," Ren spat, quickly ruining his reputation as a mild-mannered man. Yukihito responsibly intervened.

"Ren, why don't you go call Sawara-san and find out Kotonami-san's phone number? She should be here. I'll talk to the gentlemen."

"I have her number," Ren growled, unhappy to be disallowed to pick a fight. As he passed Shou, Ren have the blond a dirty look and got a great filthy shock in return to see Shou staring at Kyoko. The superstar nearly turned on his heel, but his manager's word was his command. He reluctantly carried out his duty.

Yukihito appraised Hikaru, who rubbed his tired face and sighed.

"Uh, Yashiro-san…? Isn't it Yashiro-san?"

"Yes. Ishibashi-kun, what exactly happened?"

"Fuwa-kun and I spent the night together," Hikaru began, not knowing how gay he sounded. _**Shou**_ didn't miss it, and rolled his eyes. "In the morning we were coming to LME—Fuwa-kun with the intention of visiting one of his friends there—"

"Fuwa-kun has friends at LME?" Yukihito frowned.

Beyond the door, Ren was saying, "It's nothing life-threatening, Kotonami-san."

Hikaru said, "Oh, well, Kyoko-chan and Fuwa-kun met on the set of the Prisoner PV."

"Wait—" shocked Yukihito was shocked! "Fuwa-kun was coming to see Mogami-san?"

Ren towered ominously over Shou's dauntless shoulder. "He was what? –no, Kotonami-san, not you. Yes, you should come…"

It was getting convoluted. Before Hikaru could clean up his story, Shou took the reins.

"Ishibashi, it's okay. She'll tell these two the truth anyway." He looked Ren squarely in the eye and spoke. "I was the one that caused the accident. I told Ishibashi I had a learner's license when I didn't. He's taking the fall for me, but it's all my fault really."

Ren was smoking hot. Wait, that doesn't convey—Ren was steaming mad. Seething. Fuming. He said into the phone he was holding that he would see Kanae when she got there and disconnected with a terrific air of lethal malice.

Hikaru missed it. "Tsuruga-san, sorry for trying to hide—"

Ren slowly turned his deathly glare on him instead, and when Hikaru picked up on the hostility the whole room was so charged with tension that Kyoko's demons purred a full ten feet away. A war was about to break out. Ren was about to deal the first blow…

Except Lory effortlessly defused the bomb by shoving Ren onto Shou by means of his entrance, dressed as—what else—a doctor. A _**sexy**_ doctor. Followed by half a dozen nurses (_**sexy**_ nurses!) bearing gifts of helium balloons and cute plushies and colorful baskets of food, the president of showbiz marched past the antechamber and into the main room and made Kyoko's eyes sparkle like goddamn diamonds.

"Oh, wow," Hikaru said.

Shou shoved Ren off him.

"Oh, wow," echoed Yukihito.

000

"Oh, wow," Kanae said when she got there, "The President beat me here?"

It was painfully obvious. Lory had kicked everyone out of the room, and the corridor outside Kyoko's door was crowded with bright, fun things. Great Scot, the man had even commissioned two mimes and a clown.

"He should've come as the circus," Shoutaru darkly grumbled, "Has all the props for it."

Kanae started at his presence, but refrained from commenting in front of Hikaru, a stranger. The doctors were ready to kick Kyoko out, but Lory insisted on having his fun before she was discharged. Her admirers and well-wishers and Shou hung out in the corridor, while from within her room the occasional shriek of delight issued as Lory did something awesome. It was painfully uncomfortable, and Ren had stomped away before anything happened, unable to deal with the jealousy and disappointment that he shouldn't even be feeling since he'd sworn off Kyoko. Yukihito had gone with him.

"You know," Hikaru croaked, "I think we finally found someone perfect to put up with the Prez."

"Lies," Kanae dismissively spoke, "He's too in love with love for them to really get along. She likes his sparkly tricks, but Kyoko—hnng. That girl hates love."

"Not again," Hikaru was cross, "Why is everyone on about that? I can understand Fuwa thinking he broke her but Kotonami-san, _**you **_should know her capacity for love. She actually _**blooms**_ when talking about you."

"One moment," Kanae frowned, looking from Shou to Hikaru, "You know about him and her?"

"Yeah. Only found out about it today."

The young brunette looked nearly thunderstruck. "Who told you?"

"I did," Shou said lazily, "What's it to you?"

"Well, Kyoko—argh, _**that girl**_ isn't going like that."

"Why?" wondered Hikaru. Kanae shrugged, not quite able to translate Kyoko's—not just 'that girl'—feelings.

"She thinks it was a shameful decision to enter the profession to take revenge on him. She genuinely enjoys and respects what she does now, but she's still out for his blood, you know?"

Shou blanched delicately as he saw the keen interest on his new friend's face.

"No, I didn't know. Kyoko-chan debuted to take down Fuwa?" he cast the blond a surprised glance. "They must have dated young."

"Since they were kids." Kanae seemed lost. "How don't you know any of this?"

"I only told him we dated and broke up, and he assumed that's why she's such a vindictive bitch." Shoutaru glared at everyone in general, looking like he wanted to turn into stone. I didn't give details, so thanks for that. Kotonami, is it? Thanks."

Oh, Kanae was not taking one bit of shit, not from this guy. She bristled and locked horns. "Don't take that tone with me. I don't collaborate with you. Who said to give him such a half-assed story?"

"Fuwa-kun," Hikaru sounded grown up and irate, "Quit picking a fight. Kyoko-chan isn't vindictive; she's one of the sweetest people I know. Kotonami-san, please disregard him. He hasn't had a good morning." He hadn't had a night.

"By the way," Kanae inquired, "Which of you big bad men ran over her?"

"We didn't run her over," Shou defended, "It was just…it was an accident!"

Kanae eyed him coldly. "You, huh?"

Hikaru was like, "Was there any point at all in me trying to lie?"

Two floors down in the hospital's coffee room, Yukihito set down a steaming mug of American black in front of Ren, and sipped his own creamy latte. It smelled good in here. The older man knew how coffee beans calmed Ren. Now he thought it was some deep American instinct. Yukihito pictured a blond Ren on a sunny Californian beach and heard the echo of a thousand screaming fans.

"Hmm. Hizuri Kuon, huh?"

Ren squirmed a little. From the fire of suffering Shou's company to the sauté pan of Yukihito's delayed reaction to his tale. Either way his ass was grass.

"It's a handsome name. So then, um. Hizuri Kuu-san would be your father? Then I suppose that explains you going to the airport to see him off. I thought it was for Mogami-san."

"Can we not talk about her? I…Yashiro-san, I've given up."

"I've given up too," the man said seriously, "Only last night I'd decided to not force you anymore, thinking you'd get to her on your own. And then you showed up as if to tempt my resolution. I'll only ask once. Are you sure this is what you want?"

The actor warmed his hands on his mug. "That's almost what the President asked. Yes. I don't want to be in love right now. I want to act, and make my name. Meet my parents. Maybe then…"

"When you're finally ready, she may not be."

"She will _**never **_be ready. Fuwa has seen to that."

Yukihito sighed. "You're wrong. I hope she's still around when you see it. You should've swept her up long ago."

"I think Kotonami-san should be here now. Let's go say our goodbyes."

"Wait. About Rick, Ren…"

Half-standing, Kuon half-turned. Nothing Yukihito said would be new. He knew he had to forgive himself, he knew he was helpless against grief, he knew he couldn't let it win. What did his manager have that could make things better?

"Do you want a hug?"

"Yashiro-san…"

"Do you?"

"…Yes."

When they got upstairs, Kanae was burning.

"So you're so scared of her catching up, you tried to kill her? Are you a man or what!"

"Oho," Yukihito exclaimed, "Kotonami-san found out!"

"Who'd try to kill her? Who d'you think you're accusing, woman? Wasn't I the one that chased away her stalker? She's my rival!"

Hikaru, who'd meekly been holding both hands to his head in exhausted defeat, blinked. "She had a stalker?"

"Reino of the Vie Ghouls," Shoutaru explained in a rush, "Scared her when she was shooting in Karuizawa."

"Stop spilling all her secrets!" Kanae barked. Shou jabbed a finger at her.

"They're my secrets too! I'll tell them to whatever friend I like! Her first and only kiss," he clarified to Hikaru, "Was me."

"You bast—"

"Hey now, what's going on here?"

Bless Lory's beautifully timed heart. Kanae deflated; Shou shone a little less bright. Hikaru groaned as the President's gaze fell on him. Closing the door behind him, Lory stepped out into the hall and dismissed his prop-people. Then he turned to Kyoko's visitors.

"Kotonami-kun, she's waiting for you. Why don't you go inside?"

Kanae only hesitated a beat.

"Fuwa-kun, if we're going to edit you out of the scene this morning you shouldn't hang around for too long. I'm sure Mogami-kun will accept your apology at a later date; Ren? Drive him where he needs to go. Ah…I guess Yashiro-kun should go with them. Wouldn't want to put the tiger and a dragon in one cage. Ishibashi-kun, why don't you come with me?"

Shou could guess that Lory was into Hikaru for the heartbreak he'd suffered, but Ren and Yukihito assumed differently. The blond pop star surveyed Ren's face with distaste and said to Lory:

"Actually, my manager is here."

"Then she'll drive you home," the (hot!) old man agreed, "Yashiro-kun should still go along—explain to her that we'll contact Akatoki within the hour to work out a joint story."

"And me?" Ren wanted to know.

"You can call a car for Kotonami-kun to take her back to work when she's done visiting Mogami-kun. Ishibashi-kun?"

"Yessir," Hikaru weakly said, and followed Lory on dragging feet. Shou passed comment about Lory's cruelty on juicing Hikaru for information instead of letting him sleep, and Yukihito hustled him out of the area before Ren could bite back. Standing guard by his lonesome outside his beloved's door, Ren stared at the popped balloon fragments the clown had left behind.

000

Hikaru sat in the same chair at the coffee room Ren had occupied. It was good to his ass in the same way a spiked dildo wasn't. Awkward metaphors side, Lory ordered him a big glass of milk. No one shared with Lory the kind of bond Ren did, but this particular child was dear to the LME owner for other reasons. They were close since the start of the boy band's career. Lory had picked them personally out at a restaurant they had the chance to play at years ago.

"If you're trying to put me to sleep, Prez, I don't need the milk to drop dead."

"I'm sorry you're in such a state," Lory appeared to be apologizing, "However, that's entirely your own fault. How on earth did you end up in Fuwa Shou's company?"

"My brothers dumped me at a carnival last night and he took me under his wing." Hikaru yawned hugely. "I thought 'wow, for a teen-aged gigolo he's quite the honorable man!'. Well, I guess his history with Kyoko-chan explains it. I can't see her accepting a man not on the straight and narrow."

"He's a gigolo?"

"Seems to be living with his manager. Do I have it wrong?" Hikaru didn't care, but Lory always had the most accurate gossip. Always.

"I haven't heard…but if he is shacking up with an older woman, good for him! I've always thought the age of consent was too high. Seventeen is plenty old enough to be making mistakes."

"Not huge ones," Hikaru disagreed, "At seventeen they don't even have full-time jobs; they shouldn't have spouses. Anyway, you don't seem surprised that Fuwa knew Kyoko-chan?"

"Carnally?" Lory looked shocked.

Hikaru _**was **_shocked. "No! God, no. He told me they'd only gone as far as kissing."

"He saved her for marriage? How romantic."

"Uh, I didn't quite get that impression…"

"All this is unimportant," Lory said even if he was actually dying to know what Hikaru knew, "How do _**you**_ feel?"

"Fuwa-kun is young and knows how to recover. I worry about Kyoko-chan sometimes—"

"I mean about _**your**_ break-up."

Hikaru stopped with great effort his train of thought, reversed its engine, and took stock of the President's question. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes. Lory quietly handed him a paper napkin to blow into.

"I feel like a fool. She ended it nearly a month ago and it only hit me last night. I wouldn't let go of her…I kept thinking we'd reconcile. I'm incredible. I made a complete ass of myself. I should be grateful the media didn't catch wind…"

"That just proves you were in love," Lory said, "Love makes one—"

"Not care if he looks cool. You've told me…sir. But when she didn't love me as much—or in the way I wanted her to…I can't help but feel like I wasted my time." Hikaru was troubled. "I hate breaking up. Every time it happens to me I find it a little harder to believe in love, and that's scary. Is this what happened to Kyoko-chan?"

"We were talking about you."

"Yeah. But I just—meeting Fuwa was like meeting her other half. Like I've only seen a fragment of her, you know? President Takarada, I can't see the sugar-sweet Mogami Kyoko I know with him. But I sense—I don't know, like a dark side, a passion…last night her reaction to my misery was…"

"Disturbing," Lory supplied.

"Incredibly. Yeah. And now that I think about it, her acting with him in that PV for Prisoner. Wow, that sure throws a new spin…"

Lory let him peter off, watching his eyes droop. The President didn't just enjoy playing therapist, he also considered it his responsibility. These people were his products, but they were also _**people**_ and he never wanted to forget that. Hikaru was a good kid. Lory could already see survival in him.

"Prez, I need to sleep…"

"And I have a meeting with the shareholders," Lory suddenly reminded everyone that he had an actual job, "Why don't you go say bye to Mogami-kun before leaving? I'll call you a car on my way out. Or you could ask Ren for a ride."

"I think I'll bother you to call a car," Hikaru rubbed his eyes, "I wouldn't be comfortable asking Tsuruga-san. He was pretty upset with me over sticking up for Fuwa, or something."

Lory snorted, and agreed with 'or something', and Hikaru was too beat to wonder what that was about.

000

When he walked into her room, Kyoko had a look of disbelieving horror on her face. She was fully dressed and standing by the bed, pink cast signed by Lory, Kanae, and the mimes. Ren at her side turned to look at Hikaru with a shady, guilty mien that faded quickly.

"Hikaru-san, tell me it's not true! You're not…Tsuruga-san says you are but…you're not friends with _**him**_?"

"Who?" the sable haired human was only muddled for a moment. "Oh, Fuwa-kun. Um, kind of. We only got chummy yesterday, Kyoko-chan."

Her eyes glittered with tears and she bit her lip. "Already I see his poisonous influence on you. You look like you were dragged backwards through hell."

"Thanks," even if looked like shit, she didn't have to call him on it. His ego stung. "But I started looking like this when were still together last night, remember?"

In the space of time Kyoko took to exaggerate an, "Oh, yeah~", Ren had an aneurysm. Together last night? At the carnival? Or later? Or _**earlier**_? And alone? And looking like shit? _**What did it all mean?**_

"Um, Hikaru-san," Kyoko began tentatively, "About whatever he said regarding me…"

"Kyoko-chan, please. He only spoke of you to say how you used to be the most important thing in his life." And call her a vindictive bitch, but that was really by the by. "Besides, I have my own opinion of you. It won't be altered by hearsay."

"Thank you." She had authentic gratitude in her attitude, and he was happy to have earned it. "But you don't have to lie for me. I was never the most important—hah! I was never important to him."

Ren agreed. Shou wouldn't have let her go if he had any inkling how awesome she was.

"I disagree," Hikaru wasn't being contentious for the hell of it, "I wasn't lying, either. Anyway—that's in the past. I came to say goodbye; I have to go home and pass out."

"Oh!" Kyoko refused to allow herself to consider the implications of having meant something to Shoutaru, "You should sleep, you should. I'm sorry for having caused you trouble."

"Ah," Hikaru realized no one had told her who'd knocked her out. Ren realized it too, and struggled. He'd already tattled on Hikaru being buddies with Shou; he couldn't do anymore. Not when he was supposed to be giving her up. He eyed Hikaru balefully. Did it have to be to this guy? Where had he even come from?

"Kyoko-chan, it was actually Fuwa-kun behind the wheel…"

"I know," she looked grim. "I saw his ugly mug when I…but you're the hero, Hikaru-san. That scum let you take the blame. Don't worry, I'll make him pay for it a hundredfold."

Ren's heart twitched; Hikaru's eyes narrowed.

"Oh no you won't. It was my decision, and the most sensible one. Fuwa repents. I won't let you drag your petty relationship grudge into this."

She withered instantly.

"Oh. You _**know**_…?"

"I do. Don't make that face, it's okay."

"No it's not." Kyoko was dark with shame, "Tsuruga-san hates me for it, and now you will too."

Hikaru glanced at Ren, who was opening his mouth to form the words, no I don't…

"No, he doesn't. And no, I won't." Hikaru stepped to her and ruffled her hair. She raised her eyes to him like a grounded bird, and Hikaru's heartstrings damn near ripped, they were tugged that hard. Kyoko was a princess, alright. Princess of moe.

As he stood there with her, Ren spiraled. Did Kyoko have a special relationship with _**everyone**_ but him? Just like her and Shou there was an impregnable air around these two; they talked about things he didn't fully understand. A private conversation. And he the eavesdropper.

It pissed him off.

It got worse when he got to recalling the episodes of Yappa! Kimigure Rock; how many times had Hikaru and his brothers hugged Bo, punched Bo, kissed the chicken on its pointy beak at the behest of fan letters? Alright, Kyoko was in character there. Alright, she was hidden behind a huge costume. Still, it was unfair. Ren kissing her cheek sent her into frantic convulsions, but everyone else could grab a slice? Pfft. What_**ever,**_ Kyoko.

"…so don't worry about it, okay?" Hikaru was smiling and saying and petting her shoulder, "You're always gonna be my favorite. Ain't no chicken like Kyoko-chan."

She laughed breathily and felt better. Ren had never been that adorkable when cheering her on.

Whatever, Kyoko.

"Mogami-san," he said, "I'll drive you to LME."

"And I," Hikaru finally took his hands off her, "Will just go home and keel over. Or maybe in the car."

"Hikaru-san, that's no good." Kyoko followed him out and Ren took the rear. "The driver would have to carry you indoors."

It was no good.

Ren would have to leave the country.

He decided in the car, when chauffeuring Kyoko. She peeped at him sidelong and softly said, "Tsuruga-san, I'm sorry for not telling you I was Bo. But I never told anyone anything you told him. Um, except Moko-san."

"It's fine. It can't be helped."

But it wasn't fine, and it could've been helped. Kyoko chose to merely accept her acquittal, though, and alighted at LME. He didn't look directly at her for fear of having his gaze caught on her legs.

She tried to make conversation. "Um, Tsuruga-san…where are you going now?"

He thought.

"Los Angeles."

000

Yashiro Yukihito _**freaked the hell out**_. Okay, so it wasn't beyond the impossible. Many of BJ's scenes in the movie did have to be shot in Universal Studios' backlot. It was in the budget. It was on paper. It was in the _**works,**_ though. Meaning they'd have to shuffle dates, fuck the schedule, move production, and make a mess. Yukihito could've told Ren to suffer through it.

But Ren was so rarely a pain in the ass diva.

His one whimsical demand, Yukihito was obliged to give in to.

Hey, what are managers for? What do big brothers do? Yukihito asked, are you sure? And then went for it.

Ren disappeared for a few hours and brought back a huge meal from a sumptuous restaurant. And they ate together, and they ate a _**lot**__, _and that was beyond the impossible. That was the miracle. Yukihito made some calls, kissed some ass, pulled some strings.

In two days, Ren would be on a flight to his hometown.

000

Much later, that night, Hikaru woke up to the hovering, disembodied faces of his two little brothers.

"Waugh!" His sudden sitting up on the sofa caused a three-head collision. Also he realized they did have their bodies. Uh, oops.

Yuusei groaned, Shin'ichi swore, and then they both pounced.

"What the hell is going on? You killed Kyoko-chan?"

"You slept with Fuwa Shou?"

"You slept with the cab driver?"

"I—what? No. No. God no. Fuwa caused the accident, I took the blame but _**not**_ because I slept with him, Yuusei. And the chauffeur only had to carry me indoors like Kyoko-chan predicted. I'm not responsible for anything done to my unconscious body."

"I guess we'll have to wait for the pictures to surface on the internet," Shin'ichi opined to Yuusei.

"You want dinner, Hikaru-nii? We brought home sushi. Red snapper and octopus, your favorite."

"Oh?" Hikaru sat up and asked for aspirin, "You finally felt like being nice to me?"

"Don't be stupid; we only happened to have some good news."

Theirs was a penthouse smaller than Tsuruga Ren's, and it was a much happier place too. Kyoko was right: they were lucky to be a band of brothers just different enough to get along. Home was kept clean by a maid that their manager made them hire, and also by Hikaru who felt bad for making her work so hard. His brothers would sometimes call him 'mamma' and watch him go red with humiliated pride. They hadn't had parents for the last seven years. The original Ishibashi mamma had run away with a salaryman, and Ishibashi papa had drunk himself to death soon after.

They ate dinner in the kitchen. The island was topped with white stone and flanked by three blond wood breakfast stools. They ate every meal in the kitchen, provided they were all together. Shin'ichi pulled out a plate of crispy shrimp tempura for himself; Yuusei had golden crab cakes. And Hikaru had his sushi. It was midnight, and they were chilled out.

"So?" Hikaru asked, pouring glasses of soda pop for all, "What's the good news?"

"Since the show season is over, we can focus on our music again! Guess what job manager-san landed us?"

Hikaru thought. One Earth, an international music fest, was fast approaching. What was the venue again? "Copenhagen?"

"That's actually yet to be figured out." Shin'ichi was disgruntled, "It cuts close to our new album release and manager-san doesn't want us out of Japan at that time."

"Oh? What, then?"

"We're playing in L.A. in two weeks," Yuusei spoiled gleefully, "For the J-rock concert~"

All Hikaru had to say was, "LAX sucks."

"Shut up, Hikaru." Shin'ichi pointed his chopsticks at his big brother. "Learn some diplomacy before we go. And we go in the three days, you know."

"Diplomatic I am," Hikaru snorted, "Dirty the airport is. Truth I speak always! Sugar I do not coat."

"In three days, huh?" Yuusei mused as Shin'ichi kicked Hikaru's leg, "Leaves us plenty of time for practice and play once we get there."

"Mm!" Shin'ichi emphatically concurred, "Can't wait to see our friends. That worth braving LAX, Hikaru?"

"Pretty much," he grinned, and raised his glass. "To Los Angeles."

"To shitty airports!"

"To shitty toasts."

000

Disaster struck early the next morning.

"Oh my," the lady of Darumaya Inn gasped to her husband, "Is this true, dear?"

The boss stared at the television and said, "Sometimes they make things up."

Kyoko's footsteps sounded above, and he changed the channel. His tenant's smile was strained when she traipsed down and saw Vie Ghoul on screen.

"Um," the landlady greeted, "Kyoko-chan…?"

"Breakfast isn't ready," her husband interrupted with a discouraging squint at his wife, "Will you help me in the kitchen?"

"Definitely," the bleached hair cutie trilled.

000

In another part of the city, Kanae was kicked awake by her least favorite nephew. Oh, who are we kidding? She hated them all equally.

"Ain't that Kyoko-nee on TV?"

"Actors come on TV all the time, you snot." She curled up in her futon. "Don't bother me."

"Alright. It's just that I never knew she came from Kyoto. Sad about her mom, ain't it?"

Kane paid attention. "What?"

"Don't worry about it, Aunt Kanae. Actors come on TV all the time."

000

Yukihito and Ren were already watching the idiot box, making sure yesterday's escapade had disappeared quietly from the scene. They were, um, disappointed.

"I don't understand." Ren wasn't often left in the dark. "How did this happen?"

"I'm guessing some inquisitive young reporter took a day trip to Kyoto," Yukihito was unusually grim as he dialed Lory's number, "Or maybe someone that knew them in Kyoto watched TV yesterday and called in. Hello, Sebastian? Is the President watching the news? Gal game? Good grief. Tell him to—yes. Channel 119. Oh yes, urgently. No, I'll hang up."

Ren closed his eyes, fighting the protective urges of a man in love.

"I'm still going to L.A."

"Of course you are," Yukihito said.

000

Shou didn't live with Shouko, honest. He just spent an awful lot of nights at her house because it wasn't so lonely there. They shared a bed sometimes, but it was almost completely innocent cohabitation. _**Really**_.

"What the fuck is this?"

Fuwa Shoutaru quivered from mussed-hair top to barefoot bottom in raw, unquenchable fury. Shouko sat next to him on the bed, the only person in the wide world that could attest to his chastity. Chastity now being called into question on national television.

"What the _**fuck is this**_. This is low even for her!"

Shouko doubted. "This can't be her doing."

"Who else!"

"Shou, please think about it. She never wanted anyone to know."

"Well they damn well do now! This is her revenge, isn't it obvious? For yesterday!"

And Shouko watched him get dressed, towering temper aching to crash down on and wash away Mogami Kyoko.

000

Hikaru woke up to his brothers' faces again.

"Did you know Kyoko-chan used to date Fuwa?"

They crawled into bed with him as if they were ten years old and turned on the entertainment channel on the plasma screen as if it was Saturday morning cartoons.

It was Thursday morning.

They were twenty one.

They had a flight on Saturday night.

And Hikaru, knowing he had no right to find out this way about a person's secrets, found out regardless. Kyoko from Kyoto had had quite the dramariffic life.

**x.x.x.x.x.x **

**Quick update! I'm spoiling you because this was already written. Expect a longer pause, a much longer pause, between chapters two and three. And don't give up on me.  
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	3. Make My Day

**Sigh For Me**

**A/N: Your reviews are delicious; they taste like strawberry caramels. I have plumbed the depths of the internet to bring you a touch of authenticity. The Metropolitan Government Office in Shinjuku district/ward, Tokyo, opens its observation decks to the public for free. Southern deck by day, northern deck by night—Tokyo breathes for you. True story. **

**People hold their pinky up in Japan when they're indicating a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship. That's not weird at all. (I'm not sure if they still do that—just that they definitely did in the fifties. Hey, people still give high-five in America.)**

**Chapter Three: Make My Day **

**x.x.x.x.x.x**

"…reported by Sono Noriaki. Sono-san received a call yesterday at 10:00 AM from a woman identifying herself as top singer and idol Fuwa Shou's mother. During the call the woman admitted that she had no means of contacting Fuwa because he is estranged from his parents, and then asked about _**Mogami Kyoko's **_well-being, addressing her with the familiar –chan. Reporter Sono-san inquired further as to why Fuwa's mother would be acquainted with a girl her son barely knew, upon which Mama Fuwa let slip that Mogami was from the same household that her son was! That's right—the two were childhood sweethearts growing up in the same house after Mogami's mother abandoned her…"

"God _**damn**_ it!"

Shoutaru slouched over his phone, grinding his teeth at the internet broadcast recap of the news airing still on television. Shouko had called LME and found out where Kyoko was—at headquarters, being briefed on the situation. She took the fact that Shou wanted to meet her even though this was not Kyoko's fault as a good sign. Probably Shou wanted to stand by her and protect her in her hardship, like he had at Karuizawa with the stalker…

"I am going to kill that woman," he said with deceptive calm.

"Shou!" Shouko glanced sideways at him, working the wheel of her car masterfully. As the one mostly responsible for Shou's road skills, she felt partly responsible for yesterday's mishap. Like she'd been a bad teacher. As a manager she felt wholly to blame for Shou's poor emotion management. "Don't say things like that!"

"They found out my name, Shouko-san! I'm ruined—hold on, I'm getting a call from the agency." He scowled at the number on his phone that dared interrupt his streaming video. "What now?"

Shouko shook her head as he took the call. 'Shoutaru' was pretty lame, and fickle fangirls had options. She wondered how many of the revelations the reporters had unearthed were true. The part where they claimed Shou had impregnated Kyoko then forced an abortion was outrageously false: Shouko knew that much. Vicious lies always surrounded professionals of their ilk; she and he weren't even dating and the rest of the world was convinced they were living in sin. Understandable given the amount of time they spent together…

The news also reported that the supposedly shattered couple had reignited passion's fires when Shou showed up on the Dark Moon sets with a dazzling bouquet and a public kiss for Kyoko. Shouko remembered that day. Had the kiss really happened?

"That's so stupid! Like there's any way she and I slept together! The stupid woman's a virgin, I swear. Unless Tsuruga Ren seduced her, or that Kijima Hidehito… Yeah, we lived together, but I never touched her! I had school and a career, I—but—no! That's—argh! …Fine."

Shouko kept her eyes on the road. "What's up?"

"They want me to come in. LME is off-limits to us for the moment."

Shouko took the next U-turn. "If you have a message for her, I can pass it on."

"No, Shouko-san. I can't make you say the sort of words going through my head."

He'd never made her shiver like that before. Not even as a Deva King statue of cold antipathy. Shoutaru was angry. Shouko could fall in love. How dangerous.

000

Unlike Shou, who wasn't allowed to come, or Ren, who didn't allow himself to come, Hikaru hitched a ride and showed the hell up. Sebastian had something of a crush on the star, and opened him a path directly to Lory's office, where he and Kanae were talking to a shell-shocked Kyoko. She was sitting with her perfect princess posture, hands in her lap and eyes cast downwards. Kanae was telling her how Lory had gotten her a day off, so she was going to spend it with Kyoko.

"I'm with you. The whole day. Please stop making that face."

What face?

Hikaru stopped short; he wouldn't approach.

Oh.

Shou was very familiar with her extremely sad, painful, heart-wrenching crying. It wrenched his heart a hundred times a year and he'd never learned to deal with it. But this wasn't just that. Kyoko had on her face a fungal look reminiscent of decayed anguish rising slowly up. Memories of her mother that she hadn't relived in years were coming back.

Lory came to stand next to Hikaru, giving the girls a false sense of privacy.

"She looks like she could use a hug," Hikaru sympathized.

Lory dryly inquired, "From whom? Kotonami-kun is not the hugging type and I'm too far removed. And you…? You're a stranger. Try hugging her—see how well she takes it."

"President, you too?" the rocker had about had it with this shit, "You have to stop treating her like this! Stop _**encouraging**_ her aversion to affection!"

The magnificent man held his arms akimbo. "By all means. Won't you take the lead?"

"I will, you know. I'm not afraid. I mean, a hug from me would be inappropriate, but I could hold her hand for comfort at least."

"Yes, you could."

No one made a move.

"She's Tsuruga-san's favorite, isn't she? Where's he? He could probably hug her."

"Ren's withdrawn his patronage," Lory nudged Hikaru. "The position of her dependable sempai is open. Interested?"

"President, you make the word 'patronage' sound very, deeply wrong. And she needs a friend, rather than a sempai. Why won't Kotonami-san hug her? Kotonami-san," he hissed to attract the brunette's attention, "Kotonami-san!"

Kanae looked up. He put his arms around an imaginary Kyoko. She misunderstood.

"Hey, Kyoko. Ishibashi-san says he wants to hug you. How about it?"

"Wha…?"

Kyoko raised her eyes first to Kanae, and then turned them on Hikaru. She shivered a little, as if to turn him down, and then gave a swing-any-way shrug. Kanae caught Hikaru's eye and shrugged too. Hikaru looked at Lory, who shrugged.

Ishibashi Hikaru was as tall as he needed to be, old enough to know better, of fairly normal hair and eyes. He could jam sweeter than strawberry cheesecake and had a voice that could raise cheers and boners all across Japan. He fapped like any other man and dreamed like any other human. This is what he was. This is what he did. He walked over to Kyoko's chair and kneeled in front of her.

"I meant for you, Kotonami-san, to hug her."

"Oh…"

"Kyoko-chan," he went on gently, "Will you look at me?"

She did. Mogami Kyoko was of reasonable height, coming just short of Tsuruga Ren's abnormally high shoulders. She was seventeen years old with issues in her tissues and large, liquid amber eyes. Hikaru had no idea how she'd gotten those eyes. Her mother was a demon. Had her father been an angel? Was he dead, or had he run away? The news hadn't said.

Hikaru rose on his knees, put both arms around her neck, and pulled her to his shoulder. She leaned out of her chair a little awkwardly, palms against his chest. Kanae watched on tenterhooks for a reaction. Lory, strangely, had a flashback to himself and Ren last night.

"So, um. Kyoko-chan…do you wanna talk about it?"

"This is all Shoutaru's fault," she shared Ren's sentiment, her voice steadier than he'd expected; "I can't believe how much I hate him. Hikaru-san, why do people fall in love?"

Kanae, who had already supplied an answer, watched Hikaru like a hawk. Lory, who had a thousand answers ready, shook sadly his head that a child would have to ask a question like that.

"Well, Kyoko-chan," Hikaru said thoughtfully, "Why do _**you**_ love anyone?"

"I don't love anyone."

"Kotonami-san? That couple you live with?"

"I…" she pulled away from him and looked troubled. "Is that love? I just. I want it _**back**_." Tears filled her eyes suddenly, and he reached to wipe them away before they smudged her make-up. "The feeling of giving myself away, the feeling of floating on air. The human emotion that _**he**_ took away from me. I want it _**back.**_"

Hikaru took a seat on the floor, hands in his lap, and gazed up at her. "You've done a better job of regaining it than you seem to think. I see the way you throw yourself into work—you're the only reason I watch Box R, you know that? Beautiful and cruel Natsu-sama. Sophisticated and tainted Mio. Cute and funny Bo. You've got all the passion you need! You just have to work out the kinks."

"I just don't—I don't feel like—I can't trust love. I want that feeling back but." Her frustration was breaking her voice, breaking his heart, "How do you do it, Hikaru-san? Naie-san pushed you aside. How can anyone love again after having their heart broken?"

"Because it's worth it."

Lory wanted to applaud. Kanae wanted to interrupt. But neither said a word, and merely sat down themselves to hear Hikaru out.

"You know it's worth it. Or you wouldn't be chasing it. The hardest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. All you need is a little time and a good man," Hikaru spoke without care, without thought, "To restore that grace—to remind you how good it can be, when it gets good."

Kanae nodded without meaning to. She couldn't see love looming large in her own future, but she could picture her younger friend turning the spotlight of devotion on another man. This time, Kyoko would be accommodating, but not entirely acquiescent. A darling, not a doormat. Kyoko appraised Hikaru with wide, innocently calculating eyes, abruptly realizing that he'd hugged her—and she hadn't had a meltdown. A freak out. Did she trust him that much? If this person went away from her, would she feel a gap in her life? …Was he a good man?

"Hikaru-san, um. Will you be my boyfriend?"

Lory raised his eyebrows sky-high, and the Love Me lady sitting at his side went forebodingly motionless. Hikaru was kinda thunderstruck.

"What? A little out of the blue, Kyoko-chan. Are you confessing? Have you been attracted to me all this time?"

She stood; he stood. A singularly earnest expression conquered her face.

"I don't have any feelings for you, Hikaru-san," she began (what poetry! What romance!), "But you feel so good. I want to be like you. Please, teach me what a good boyfriend is. I have no experience at all."

The poor man gaped. Forgive the naïve, nonchalant proposal. Feign ignorance of the laid-bare ulterior motives of a child. Forget the legal-pedophile barrier. There was no conventional emotion in the proposed relationship, except for all the girl's longing. And Hikaru's ocean-wide anxiety. And the furor to be raised by anyone that found out… Breaking up was tough for him, but its effect on this young lotus blossom clean dizzied him. Hikaru didn't believe in rebound relationships. Committing to Kyoko would be _**committing to**_ _**Kyoko**_, not volunteering to make her feel better or nurse his own battered heart.

"I know I'm not pretty enough…"

It wasn't just Shou that shattered her confidence. This girl had been a mess for a while.

"I'm also very…very young…"

Replacing Naie with a younger woman? Could this possibly work out?

"I'm probably being too forward."

Could Ishibashi Hikaru handle Mogami Kyoko and any drama that she brought?

"Hikaru-san?"

They'd make a pretty good team. He knew it. He knew her.

"Kyoko-chan," he swallowed hard. "I wanna go out with you."

Lory leaped to his feet and called for cake, for champagne, for a double decker bus. Kanae rose, dignified, to congratulate them. Hikaru didn't know if he'd been asked out or if he'd announced his engagement. Sebastian came in with a call—Akatoki Agency had formulated a plausible story and wanted to speak to Kyoko's manager.

"I'll take it," Lory cut in and received the receiver, "Hello, I'm the head of the Love Me section. Is it Fuwa's manager? …Oh, Naoya! You old bastard, is this what it takes to get Akatoki's president to talk to me? I finally have you— …what do you mean you knew I'd take the call? As you planned, huh?" he covered the mouthpiece and smiled at his stars. "Can I toss you all out of my office? Thanks. Sebastian, see to it."

The right hand of God—uh, no—ushered them out of Lory's chambers and into another, smaller room. Four hot pink couches with small yellow pillows surrounded a parrot green carpet on which a sunshine-colored table sat. The walls were a full-bodied blue. The children's eyes were brown and black and gold and wide.

Sebastian said, "Maria-sama's father designed the look himself as a gift to the President. Please wait here. Call for me if you need anything."

Kanae pulled Kyoko to the furthest couch and engaged in a muted conversation. Hikaru was left to stand alone and fend for himself.

000

Shin'ichi was kicking Yuusei's ass at Mario Kart when he realized he wasn't on the top screen. Also, he got a call from his big brother that didn't make a lot of sense to him but served as a platform from which to mess with Hikaru's head.

"Yuusei's cheating, mamma! …Hello, where are you? Still at LME? How's comforting Kyoko-chan going?"

His brother wandered away to the kitchen, snagged a can of cola, and wandered back to the rec room with a bag of strawberry caramels. Shin'ichi had gleeful disbelief dawning on his face.

"Talk about comforting her! _**Our**_ Kyoko-chan," he crowed to Yuusei, "Asked Hikaru out!"

"Hikaru-nii? Lies."

"Truth. Go bring me a soda too, asshole. Call yourself a brother? …Yeah Hikaru, I'm listening. Is she coming home with you? Because you have to introduce us! What do you mean we already know her? Exactly how did this happen anyway? You're not nearly smooth enough…" he noticed Yuusei pulling on a pair of pants instead of fetching him a drink. "Yuu. You suck. …Not _**you**_, Hikaru. Sure, sure. Being smooth obviously had nothing to do with it, big brother. …Of course it was an insult! Brains for shit. No, I got that right. No, _**you **_grow up. No, I won't quit it. Clean up? Why do we pay the freaking maid for? She's skipped today. Why would I know what she was thinking? …Congratulate you? Hikaru, you're dating the chicken. And two days ago you were crying in front of her for another woman. I predict this steamy affair will last, like, five days."

"Less." Yuusei sank into his seat and texted their local pizzeria for a delivery, "We're going to Los Angeles this weekend."

Shin'ichi bumped fists with him and relayed the message. He listened to Hikaru's reply intently, and then laughed, "Aw, come on. Listen, bring her home. We'll be good. We love Kyoko-chan! Probably more than you do—where you going? Hikaru? Hikaru." He looked sadly at his phone. "He hung up."

"Wonder why," Yuusei grunted, "You're the worst person to talk to when love gets you down."

"Hnn? Whatever. Kyoko-chan and Hikaru…pfft. What was he thinking? It'll never last. Why'd he have to choose her? She's too nice, too sweet, to close to us to get her heart broken by being his rebound."

Yuusei clamped a caramel between his teeth and picked up his controller. "Hikaru-nii doesn't believe in rebounds, so he must really want to make it work. And hello? Do you _**know**_ Kyoko-chan? She's not as sweet as she looks. Can kick some ass when the mood takes her."

"Like I'm kicking your ass right now?"

"…You're looking at the wrong screen, bro."

000

Kanae said, "So you understand then. Why I'm leaving."

Kyoko nodded. "It's a really bad day for you to take off. The director didn't have a choice because the President asked but they'll never get anything done without your character. Since I'm out of commission for now it's up to you and Amamiya-san to uphold Love Me section's good reputation as sincere workers. Also you really want to see Hiou-kun."

"That last part _**is not true**_. Kyoko, he's just a child. The real third reason is that you should spend some time alone with your new boyfriend. I would be awkwardly sitting there, and I am not putting myself through that."

After she'd left, Hikaru helped himself to her seat and grinned at Kyoko.

"Glad to have me to yourself?"

The young girl lost her composure and went a little red…and a little blue, a little green. _**Was **_she now? Alone with Hikaru in a room not easily disturbed; allowed and expected to look into his face and hold his hand and listen to that rumbly-crumbly voice capable of quaking hearts… Contemplating him in a way she'd only ever contemplated Shou also led her to contemplate another man doing to her what Shou had done, saying what Shou had said. Kyoko was _**not**_ plain bread, was not vanilla. Not a wallflower that thought only of romance. Did Hikaru know that, though? Did anyone ever see that?

His jaw dropped.

"Wow, quite the phobia you have there..."

"Sorry," she didn't quite gasp. If this was heartbreak, the aftermath of betrayal, then Hikaru had never been hurt. He watched her shrewdly for a minute and seemed to confirm something to himself.

"Wait right here, I'll be right back."

He stomped out and she stared and he stomped back in, holding a handful of lollipops.

"Have one?" He sat down and spilled them onto the table. "They're from the President's office," he explained, "He gives me one every time I go in. Like an apology after a trip to the dentist…do you like him? The President."

She chose a chocolate flavored lolly and stuck it between her lips. "He's been very kind to me. Why are _**you**_ giving me these, though? What do you have to apologize for?"

Hikaru took the question way too seriously. "I would give any relationship my best shot. I thought Fuwa did too, and it didn't work out. I didn't know what an asshole he had been to you—sorry I trivialized your vendetta against him."

Kyoko's hair fell away from her eyes as she raised her head to better meet his gaze.

"I'm also sorry that I can't promise to never hurt you. I'm not a perfect boyfriend—if I was, Naie wouldn't have left me. No girl would have left me. You thinking I am scares me a bit. I'm gonna do my best, but it might not be enough. Will you let me know when it's not, instead of bottling it up?"

Her cheeks sucked in, her chin went down—and back up. A half-nod? For Hikaru, it was enough. He slurped his own grape flavored sucker. It was Kyoko's turn.

"I…I know you're big on hugs and kisses. I don't want you to hold back on my account." A firm, fetching blush. Hikaru had never seen her so coy. "I mean. When you hugged me just now, I—I've been sealing my heart up so tight without even admitting it to myself, Hikaru-san. I have got to stop." They were agreeing with each other's opinions already. "You feel nice."

"You mentioned." He smiled.

She refused to let embarrassment show. "I…I think that's it."

"Nah," Hikaru said, "But we'll make the rest up as we go along."

The gravity on her face cracked with the weight of the monumental grin she delivered, and the music maker found himself casting around for a topic to keep the atmosphere in a lighter vein. Kyoko beat him to it.

"You know that band you and Yuusei-san were telling me about? Abingdon boys school? I went and listened to it."

Hikaru's face took on a remarkable glow. "They're great, aren't they? Shin'ichi doesn't think so—but then Shin'ichi is an idiot."

"Mm!" she was obviously pleased to be putting such an expression on his face. The thrill of easy banter ran through her. "I like your band better, though."

"You're lying. No one could listen to them and think we're better. Compared to them we're bubble-gum rock."

"You're not as loud—I like that better."

"I don't think you understand the whole point of rock music, Kyoko-chan…"

"Um." She went a little red, a little blue… "Since we're going out, it's okay for you to call me just Kyoko."

Hikaru ducked his head too, and bit through to the chocolaty center of his lollipop. "Okay. Will you call me Hikaru?"

"No way." She kinda broke his heart with how firm her response was, "You're my sempai!"

"I'm your boyfriend," he corrected, carefully watching her reaction. Her fair visage went a little weird, but she contained herself. "Seriously. It's okay to call me Hikaru. Or a nickname, if you want. Like you call Kotonami-san Moko-san…"

He hadn't been able to help overhearing their conversation a little after all. Kyoko was a filled with mortified curiosity as to what he might have heard. Filled with mortified curiosity as to how he'd suit a nickname.

"I think I'll just call you Hikaru…if you don't mind."

He pressed a hand to his heart as if knowing he wasn't to be honored with an alias injured him personally, and she went a little…

"Kyoko, you've gotta stop blushing so much. You're gonna make me blush."

"So do you have any abingdon boys school songs on your phone?" She was about as subtle as Shou in a wig, but he could take a hint. He could give her a break. His phone had loads of music, and they spent an affable half hour swapping tunes. Then Sebastian came in and said:

"Takarada-sama will see you now."

000

This time, Yuusei took Hikaru's call. Only because Shin'ichi was having a whiz.

"Hikaru-nii~! How is Kyoko-chan? Have you taken her on a date? …still at headquarters? You used to be so romantic, what happened to you? Oh, crap—I lost the game."

Indeed he had, and the narrator told him: "You're not yourself today. I noticed the improvement right away. If you don't win this race, I'm not going to love you anymore. Your wins are like diamonds: very rare."

"Hahaha, I loathe that guy. Better by far than the usual drivel though. Hikaru-nii, are you still talking? A press conference? With Fuwa? Well, yes, I know they have to explain everything that's been going on. Clear the air…why do they need you there? He has to attend," he told the returned Shin'ichi, "A press conference as Kyoko-chan's boyfriend."

His sibling wiped his hands on Yuusei's pants and took his controller. "I thought he _**was**_ her boyfriend."

"As her boyfriend," Yuusei pulled a face at Shin'ichi's wacky hijinks, "Of longer than two hours."

"How much longer?"

"Three weeks."

"Naie will hear, and Naie will flip. 'He got over me so fast!' she'll say, 'And why was he sending me flowers when he was already seeing other women?'."

Yuusei passed it on, and Hikaru pointed it out to Lory, who pointed a finger or something, because Hikaru sounded disgruntled as he responded to his brother's logic.

"Her boyfriend of a week, then. That's completely pointless," Yuusei complained, "They might as well go ahead and say you only got together today. How much can you bond in a week? …You were ready to propose to your first girlfriend after a week because you were thirteen, nii-san. No, I don't think you had a point to make; you simply like being disputatious. Is too a word! Read a dictionary sometime."

Shin'ichi swore at the narrator, who informed him that he didn't have an inferiority complex; he was just inferior. The drummer turned to Yuusei, going, "My question is—what's their story for the press?"

Yuusei waited for Hikaru to finish before he recited, "Fuwa and Kyoko-chan did go out; they broke up in Kyoto itself but remained friends, coming to Tokyo together to become stars. Kyoko-chan became an idol after Fuwa because she sucks, or something. What?" he listened to his brother explode in his ear, "It was a joke! You know how much I love Natsu-sama! Kyoko-chan became an idol later because someone had to work—wow, is this true? Did she really support him before his career took off? What a douchebag, making his girlfriend work for him."

"She chose it because she was in love," Shin'ichi shrugged it off, "What else?"

"Uh, they cohabitated innocently. Fuwa moved out after Akatoki picked him up. Kyoko-chan didn't want to be under the same label as him because she feared the public would cry nepotism—really? Oh, okay. It's actually," he explained to Shin'ichi, "Because she'd had enough of his antics and dumped his sorry ass. I think I love her, nii-san."

Shin'ichi was less adoring. "And then LME took her on?"

"Yeah…the Prez heart'd her and created Love Me for the explicit purpose of honing her skills." Yuusei's eyes widened. "Is that…is that true? God, he goes to a lot of trouble to not see talent wasted, doesn't he?"

"That's why we're here," Shin'ichi reminded him, "If he hadn't seen us play at Golden Gai and thought we were too good to go unnoticed, we'd…well, probably still be playing at Golden Gai."

"Prez, I love you! Yell it at him, nii-san. No, I'm for real—tell him I love him. …Good. Hahaha," Yuusei was amused! "He says he loves us too," he told Shin'ichi.

"Ask him who he loves more—us, or Tsuruga Ren."

"No. Go away. Hikaru-nii, you were saying? Okay, you weren't saying. Well, say something now. You want us at the press meet or something? …Fine, we won't come. Didn't want to anyway. …Yep, been playing all along. Manager-san will be here first thing tomorrow morning to make us pack. And then we'll suffer separation from the consoles for two whole weeks! Easily more if we end up going to Copenhagen from L.A."

"I keep telling you," Shin'ichi moaned, "One Earth will never happen for us."

"Stop whining; we get to play at L.A., don't we? Bring some J-rock to the American masses. Prove not all of us sound like the remixes on DDR."

"Some of those are actually really good."

Yuusei was pressing the phone harder into his ear. "Hikaru-nii, did you hang up? Oh my god," he looked offended, "He actually did."

"About time. Help me beat the shit out of this narrator."

"You can't. He'll just insult your punches. I've tried."

000

"Another one of those shiny bouquets, please. And a box of chocolates to go with it."

The florist looked delighted, and called her friend the chocolatier. Whenever Fuwa Shou came to Yamada Hanae's flower shop she could pay her rent and her kids' school fees. Shouko thought he knew that and that was exactly why he chose _**this**_ florist of all the ones in the city. His real reason, if he had one, was kept to himself.

"This will be expensive," the manager protested halfheartedly. If the blond babe wanted to do something for Mogami Kyoko, she was not about to stop him. He did halt, though, and seemed to consider.

"The bouquet might bring back shitty memories. That was a worthless kiss."

"Oh lord." Shouko went pale. "You kissed her. You actually kissed her? In front of Tsuruga Ren?"

He growled deep in his chest. "That man doesn't _**own **_her. And it wasn't a kiss…not really. I think I'll get the bouquet—but I won't give it to her." He suddenly smiled at Shouko. "I hardly ever appreciate you. How would you like a pearl spray?"

"One that you didn't think was good enough for your ex-girlfriend? Oh Shou, you really know how to flatter a woman."

"Hey, Yamada-san," he threw out an arm to call Hanae's attention. "What's a good apology gift to give to a girl you ran over?"

The woman's dark eyes lit up. "Goodness! Then you and that Mogami-san are…?" she held up a pinky. Shou rolled his eyes. She put it back down and spritzed her choicest flowers with water. "She broke her arm, didn't she? Ouch. You should take her to dinner at a neat restaurant and buy her jewelry."

"Can I just do the jewelry bit? On account of spending time with her ends up with one of us trying to kill the other."

"You're one of those couples, eh?" Hanae looked tickled pink. "My husband and I are just the same. He'll be bringing your box from the chocolatier's when its done up, by the way. Won't you take a seat?"

Shou did. Shouko sat next to him, ignoring the way he patted his lap as if to indicate she should perch there. He smirked in that aggravating, juvenile Casanova way and leaned in.

"That kiss was really nothing, Shouko-san. I definitely prefer you."

"You're so charming." She pinched his cheek. "So few people know the monster that lurks under that beautiful face. Poor Kyoko-chan."

He looked into his lap. Shouko looked into his eyes. "Shou?"

"I'm apologizing, aren't I?" he asked. "I didn't mean to hurt her, Shouko-san, please believe me. I'm not that bad a person. I'm _**not**_."

The blonde woman studied him some more and took his hand into hers. "No," she said in a crystal-clear tone, "You're not. Yamada-san, do you know where we could get a nice necklace?"

Hanae was plucking magnolias for the mega-bouquet. "Uh, there's that place by that building. You know, the fancy one?"

"Yes, that's informative."

"Haha—sorry. Concentrating. Tell you what; my husband'll take you there once he gets here. You've got an easy hour to kill, I'd say. Shall I order some lunch?"

"That would be nice," Shouko told her, distracted by her ringing phone. It was the agency, calling to give her the final details of the press meet. One of the details blew her mind. She turned to tell Shou and hoped it wouldn't blow his fuse.

000

Hikaru and Kyoko ate their meal at the LME cafeteria rather than sitting in Lory's office like he'd asked them to, or tailing him to his lunch appointment with someone or the other like he'd also asked them to. They could be bloody dumb when the mood chose them. Just about everyone else in the cafeteria was discussing the morning's and yesterday's news telecast in tones not nearly hushed enough.

"This was a bad idea," she muttered to her chopsticks.

"This was _**your**_ idea."

"I grovel at your feet for forgiveness," she ventured, putting one palm up to meet the other, cast'd one and pleadingly gazing at him. Hikaru glanced up from his rice bowl and felt his heart skip beats left and right. An impulse seized him and he acted on it.

"Don't worry about that. Just don't freak out about this."

"About wha—" she got her answer when he leaned over the table and kissed her nose. Their immediate vicinity immediately reacted with renewed hisses of gossip. Kyoko let her forehead fall to the table, just missing her soup.

"What was that for," she mumbled.

"You told me not to hold back with the public displays of affection," he told her cheerily, "So I didn't. Kyoko, please? I'll apologize if you want me to."

"It's fine. You don't have to." She furtively surveyed the area around them. "That was just…"

"A bad idea."

"It was _**your**_ idea."

"I grovel at your feet for forgiveness."

She raised her head and saw him in the same palms-together stance she'd assumed earlier. Only, well, he actually didn't have one arm rolled in plaster. He closed his eyes and thrust his face forward. She stifled her giggles with a napkin. He opened one eye.

"Well?"

"I am _**not **_going to kiss you."

He dropped his hands. "O cruel and accursed princess…"

She laughed outright, and clapped both hands to her mouth. "Not here, at least…"

"What kind of place would do?"

The girl stirred the straw in her blueberry milkshake around and round, trying to be eloquent. "When I was…when I thought he was my prince, I thought he would take me away on a white horse to a gorgeous church in the countryside—my mother is Christian—and I would be wearing a bell of a wedding dress while he'd be in purple velvet and the entire town would celebrate our marriage. And we'd kiss after the vows." A half-grin, embarrassed to admit it. "I thought that was what chastity was. I thought that was romance."

"Now what do you think of it?"

"Nothing but a cosmic cliché." A tired air wrapped itself around her like a stole. "You can kiss me anywhere, Tsuruga-san says, as long as both our feelings are in it. As long as you're not stealing it from me on the sets of my show."

Hikaru winced. "That thing about him showing up with a bouquet was true?"

She shuddered. "Mm. He wasn't trying to make up, though—only wanted to humiliate me in front of people I worked with and respected."

"And Tsuruga Ren told you it wasn't a kiss," Hikaru deduced, "Unless both the kissers' feelings were in it?"

"Yeah…"

"He was right," said the rocker, "And the more I hear about Shou the less I connect him to the kid I was with two nights ago. It's making me angry."

"You don't sound angry."

"My angry face is sneaky, isn't it," agreed Hikaru, "You never know when I'll strike. Roar!" he shouted suddenly, curling his fingers at her. She stared stolidly back.

"Kyoko, at least pretend to be scared."

"Ah," she Mio'd, "I scream."

"Was that sarcasm, or are you secretly a terrible actress?"

He killed an hour after lunch following her around as she walked from the Love Me section's room to Sawada Takanori's office to get her cast signed, stopping anyone she vaguely knew on the way to shove a sharpie at them. It was Takanori that noticed—after demanding and receiving all the expected explanations for all the adventures she'd had the last couple of days—that Hikaru hadn't signed yet. Kyoko turned him with aggrieved eyes.

"I'm so sorry! I'm the worst girlfriend in the history of the world!"

"Relax," he said, "I'll sign it now. Actually I wanna draw…may I?"

"Definitely," she collapsed into a seat and he knelt in front of her again. She rather hoped he wouldn't make a habit of it. He really did remind her of herself, and she didn't like the thought of him being as subservient as she'd been.

Takanori was like, "Excuse me? Girlfriend?"

Kyoko was like, "Oh, dear."

"Exactly," Hikaru chuckled, and let her explain that too while he sketched on the underside (other side) of her arm. A heart, cradled by a sickle moon, and a few squiggles to represent a river. His humble attempt at being artistic with an unfamiliar medium. Shin'ichi might've laughed, but Kyoko loved it. If he ever wrote this girl a song, Hikaru thought, she'd shine like a goddamn star. He'd written Naie a song, once. It was on the album that was coming out. Now that was something to wince about; if he and Kyoko were together and that song came on the radio…

He told himself he had gotten his heart broken, and she had too. He told himself Naie was the past, and Shou was too. He told himself to look at Kyoko, and liked what he saw. He really did. He asked himself if he was a bad man for liking it so much so soon after loving someone else. That question didn't get an answer.

"Kyoko," he said, and Takanori jumped again at the rapport they had going on between them, "Where did Tsuruga-san sign?"

"Um," replied his girlfriend, his paramour, his divine dewdrop of blushing girlhood (ahaha, if he ever put it quite that way…) "He didn't. I never did ask him. He'd think it was childish."

"You should've offered," Hikaru stuck his tongue between his teeth, put a few final touches to his masterpiece, and took a seat next to her on the other side of Takanori's desk, "Who knows, he might've made an exception for you."

"There's no way he would've."

The guitar player shrugged, as if to say Kyoko knew best, and peered at the obviously shocked Sawada Takanori. "Sir, do you want us to get you a coffee or anything?"

"I…I'm fine, Ishibashi-kun. And I suppose I'm happy for you. Our Kyoko-chan is innocent, please take care of her. I leave her in your capable hands."

Hikaru got that feeling again, like he was taking a bride off her father's hands. Kyoko was staring at Sawada, a little touched and a little scared. Bridge Rock's big guy threw his arm around her, and drawled.

"Sawada-saaaaaaan, you have nothing to worry about. She's gonna be my princess."

He squeezed her shoulder; she leaned into him. Takanori beamed like a lighthouse. They left his presence.

"Sorry," she whispered, still stuck to his side. He slid his arm around hers and twined fingers.

"What for?"

"Sawada-san might've embarrassed you…"

"He only told me what I've already realized. A Love Me section member is seriously loved at LME. By Takarada-sama, by everyone." He cracked up. "I feel like I married the dearest daughter of a rich man."

"And that doesn't scare you?" her eyes had gone round as the moon at the mere mention of marriage.

"I was here before you, remember? I know how crazy people around here can be." He smiled. "And I know how warm they can be. People pity Bridge Rock because we three brothers have only each other. They forget where we come from. LME is one big family—not always happy, but what family is? It's entirely the President's fault, of course."

Kyoko worried. "If you're part of the family, and I'm part of the family, does that mean we're practicing incest?"

"…You're weird, Kyoko."

"Answer the question, please."

"Um, no. It doesn't. It really, really does not."

Out of nowhere, Joan Jett started to sing _I think of you every night and day/ You took my heart, then you took my pride away~ _and Hikaru blamed Shin'ichi for fiddling with his cell phone ring tone. That song was way too appropriate for the heart-ripped Hikaru of yesterday and way too awkward for the hooked up version of right now. Kyoko, luckily, didn't have the grip on English she'd need to figure out what the device was crooning before Hikaru took the call.

"President? Yes?"

He told them a car was ready to take them to Akatoki Agency, who'd won the coin toss (what? Seriously? Wait—this was Lory; there was no need to be surprised) for the venue of the press meet. Shou and his manager would meet them at the back entrance and go over the answers to the questions they were expecting. He held Kyoko's hand until they slid onto the leather upholstery of the LME company vehicle, and then she had to let go to fix her hair. He probed himself to see if it hurt to not hold her hand and found it didn't. That didn't mean anything, he told himself, and it was because he knew he could hold her hand again if he wanted to. Stop talking to yourself, he told himself, and to talk to the girl sitting next to you.

She wasn't done with her hair, though, so he changed his ringtone first.

000

A stony silence rang out (no, really) in the room adjoined to the conference hall. Shouko would later reflect that it was the least fun she had ever had in her career.

"Heads up—I don't care about the massive amounts of drama in your lives right now, or how much you hate each other. When you get in there," she was fairly threatening them, "You will be cordial. To the reporters and to one another. You're three best friends. There is no love triangle, do you understand me? There was Shou and Kyoko; now there is Shou and Hikaru."

"What?"

"I mean Hikaru and Kyoko! Jeez how'd I ever make a mistake like that I shudder to think." She laughed nervously.

Kyoko bowed low. "You don't have to worry about me, Shouko-san, ma'am. As a Love Me section member and a representative of LME, I will be on my best behavior."

"Oh?" Shou sneered, "Then you won't be attacking handsome young idols tonight?"

"Not if they keep their hands to themselves I won't," she shot back. Hikaru took her arm in an attempt to cool her down, and Shou glared daggers at him. The eldest (and by far the most mature) star stared back in cool disregard.

"I give," Shouko griped, "Get out there." And, as Shou passed her, quieter: "Don't let the vultures tear you apart."

He gave a lightning-flash smile. Hikaru held the door open for first Kyoko, and then her ex.

The reporters dug right in.

Oh wait, no they didn't. They sat like civilized human beings through first Shou's address, and then Kyoko's add-on, and finally Hikaru's soft words of assurance that their glittery world was fine as ever. Shou even signed Kyoko's cast in front of the rolling cameras. They loved it. Tsuruga Ren didn't. No one cares about him, though.

Shouko stepped onto the dais and called, "We'll take your questions now—just a few, please. We'd like to wrap this up."

After a couple of no-brainers on Kyoko's not-pregnancy and Hikaru's relationship with her, a columnist hollered, "Fuwa-kun, is your full name really Shoutaru?"

Shou was expecting this though, and even with Kyoko's demoralizing gaze on him he was one hell of a smooth talker. "Yes, yes it is. I wished to keep my identity hidden for as long as possible so as not to be found out by my family—well, I'm ultimately a runaway teen." He gave the cameras a rebellious, heart-throbbing smirk. "Looks like I could've done a better job, huh?"

An appreciative round of chuckles swept the room, and then came his downfall.

"Fuwa-kun, this humble person remembers footage of the Yappa! Kimigure Rock episode where you said the day you revealed your true name would be the day you retired from your music. What does this mean for your career now?"

Shouko froze; Hikaru cringed visibly. Kyoko's eyes were still on Shou, full of horror. The blond batted lazy lids and drawled,

"By all means—I _**have**_ retired. From pop! I plan on being a serious musician now, not just an idol for my fans. But believe me." Another show-stopping smirk. "The fans will have more reasons to stick with me than ever."

He set sight on his manager's shoulders, and the way they relaxed ever so slightly was all he needed to tell him that he'd done a bang-up job of keeping it together. Hikaru couldn't help but admire his quick thinking. Kyoko couldn't help but be a bit disappointed. He could've squirmed just a little before coming out looking cooler than ever. She imagined a thousand fangirls viewing the interview at home must have had the screaming faints all due to that last line. She sure would've when she was dating him.

Shouko delivered the closing statement and ushered them back to the other room before her charge was endangered in any other way, and then returned to have a word with the correspondents as to how Akatoki and LME wanted the interview written about. With no one to watch them and no one to stop them, Hikaru got Kyoko her coat.

"Are you sure we can leave?"

"Sure," he said, "If they do need you for anything else they can call. But there were plenty of photo-ops and you've said everything you need to say. What's the point in lingering?"

"Right," she agreed, and made for the door. He turned to Shou even if she wouldn't—they'd been drunk together, after all. He couldn't just ignore the man, even if he had once been heinous to his new girlfriend.

"Well, Fuwa," Hikaru held out a hand for Shou to shake, "Thanks for being decent about all this."

And because no one but Shouko had ever dared accuse Shoutaru of being a decent human being and got away unscathed, he took the hand and replied, "No problem. Hope my leftovers taste good, Ishibashi."

Kyoko whirled, eyes blazing, and Shouko walked in to catch Hikaru throwing Shou to the floor with one neat punch to the jaw. She shrieked and slammed the door behind her, utterly grateful that the reporters had all but left. Before she could rush to his side, Hikaru squatted by the stunned blond superstar.

"Why would you be such a giant pain in my ass all of a sudden? Because I'm going out with Kyoko?" Shou twitched silently at the name. "You deserved that punch, you know that right?"

Shou responded with a fist to his face. Hikaru caught it in both hands and had the gall to look surprised.

"What was that for?"

"You were seeing her when you were with me!"

"Oh, jeez."

Shou sat up and cursed. "You deserve a punch too. Admit it. Spending all that time with me crying over your stupid ex-girlfriend when the whole time you were dating mine!"

Kyoko towered over them both. "We only began dating _**today**_, Shoutaru. Stop acting like a dumped teenager. Oh wait," she could smirk too; he'd never known that. "That's exactly what you are, right? Hikaru, don't waste your time on this guy. Let's go."

Hikaru looked at Shou and said, "She's right, you know. About us beginning today and the other thing too."

"Ishibashi…"

"The funny thing is," the chestnut-haired hero lowered his voice so the girls had to strain to hear him. "You don't seem like such a bad guy when I'm face-to-face with you. But man, you were a douche to her. Do you even have an excuse?"

"She was really easy to be a douche too?" Shou lowered his voice too, not wondering why he bothered.

"You definitely deserved that punch."

"So we're cool?" Shou was eager to know. He had issues with Ren and Kyoko because Ren was his rival; who gave a flying fuck if Hikaru, a fellow musician (lower on the charts than he was) wanted her? Take her, and his blessing. Take her, and good luck.

"Uh." Hikaru looked to the impatient, affronted actress. "I don't think so, no." Nonetheless he clapped the boy on the shoulder before getting up and bowing to Shouko.

"Thanks for having us, ma'am."

"It's not a problem," she whispered faintly back.

He wanted to take Kyoko's hand as he walked out the door, but Shou called out to him. The girl loitered in the background as Hikaru walked back.

"What?"

"Here." The pop prince threw a prettily wrapped package at him. "It's to make up to her for yesterday—like Takarada-san wanted. Give it to her later." He saw the way the other man was eyeing it. "It's not a bomb, you know. Or a live snake. Or a—"

"I know."

"Okay."

On the verge of words, Hikaru was distracted by the thought of Kyoko waiting for him. He nodded to Shou, who nodded back, and they separated.

000

"Do you not want to open it in front of me?"

The car thrummed smoothly along the road; the driver in the front seat was really good at pretending he couldn't hear them. Nonetheless, Hikaru leaned in and spoke quietly. The faux fur on her faux leather jacket tickled his nose, and he fought back a sneeze. The golden evening sky was hardly visible through the windows' dark tint. That was how most celebrities liked it, but Hikaru preferred something like the honey glaze on his own hot ride. Kyoko covered the package in her lap with both hands and looked into his eyes. His head reeled a bit. Talk about honey…

"That's not it at all! I'm mad at him because he gave it to you—because he knew I'd just play toss with him if he tried to buy some comfort for his conscience like this." He couldn't deny that found the dissonance between her familiar, kind face and the flat scorn in her voice striking. Like blood on snow, or a monster in your fridge.

"You know," he spoke carelessly again, "I think we should really spend more time with that guy."

The pained pinch between her eyes informed him of his blunder. "Why? Oh no—oh no, Tsuruga-san was right. You're friends with him, aren't you?"

"It's not about that." Hikaru leaned his neck back against the seat and twined their fingers together. Kyoko glanced at the contact—and shrunk away. He raised his eyebrows, and she shook her head, and he scooted away, and she gave a moue of mourning like she regretted her reaction. Hikaru touched his knuckles to hers. "Uh…what was I saying?"

"It's not about you being friends with Shou."

"It's not. It's that I feel this entirely different you when you're near him. I've known Mogami Kyoko for what, a year now, and sometimes I get to wondering if she's the real thing. It's not you—I get that way with any actor. You're a creepy bunch. I never know if you're putting on airs or what. Somehow, ever since that first episode with Shou, I just _**knew**_ that at that moment at least you weren't faking anything. You didn't remember any training, didn't call on any etiquette and didn't use any mannerisms."

"It's hard to fake ice cold hatred that sears like a thousand suns."

He almost laughed, because she was almost joking.

"I meant that I wanna see more of that side of you. Don't get me wrong—you're the bestiest, most well-mannered girl I've met but…"

"I'm more attractive as a demon?"

Hikaru noticed the change in her tone and proceeded with caution. "It's a cheap thrill, courting a demon. The danger takes your breath away…and then eventually frustrates you. I happen to like nice girls."

"Good. Because I'm not a demon." She covered his hand with hers. "Shoutaru's paid me more attention and—in his own, twisted way—been sweeter to me _**after**_ I started hounding him for revenge. But that's not the person I want to be. I…I don't know what I want to be. My manners that you like so much? His mother taught me them, and I learned because I wanted to make her happy. I can't jettison them now…"

"And the kindness?" Hikaru's voice sent lonely shivers down her spine. "Who taught you that?"

"…"

"I'm well aware of the dangers of dating a seventeen year old," he admitted freely, "Personality liable to change, right? Some things won't, though. Some traits you were born with."

Her lower lip quivered. "Dangers? So I'm a cheap thrill for you?"

Ah, he'd been careless once more. Fix it, fix it. "I don't know what you are." Honesty so was _**not**_ good at fixing things. "Do you wanna open it?" He patted the peace offering. Kyoko waited a beat, acquiesced and slit the wrapping sleekly on the side with a lacquered fingernail. A slim, rectangular wooden box appeared, obviously made to hold necklaces.

"Oh, wow," hissed her boyfriend, amazed. Inside laid a thin silvery chain with a large sapphire pendant on a blanket of white satin. Two smaller sapphires, encircled by more silver, constituted the earrings and nestled in the curve of the trinket. "He's really set the bar way up there for me. If the ex gives such spectacular gifts, what do I do? Fuwa, you son of a bitch."

Kyoko rubbed a finger against the bulbous sapphire adorning the chain. Was she pondering what Hikaru was pondering?

"That sapphire at dinner on Tuesday," he began slowly, gaging her antiphon with every word he spoke, "Does that mean something to the both of you?"

She laughed, taking him unawares. "To Shoutaru? No. Apparently he thinks I like sapphires. I'm shocked he even noticed that I had Corn."

Confusion, naturally, struck hard. "What does corn have to do with anything?"

"That's the name of the stone."

Hikaru knew better than to ask, you name your gems? Yuusei had once given monikers to every pair of socks he owned. Fame had fucked with that kid's head in an outlandish, other-worldly way for a while.

"Are you going to…wear it?"

"No."

"Are you going to…pawn it?"

A longer lapse to reply.

"No…"

"Should I never buy you sapphires?"

Her eyes darted up to meet his in frank alarm. "You should never buy me anything expensive! I'm not worth it!"

"Hey, if Fuwa can—"

"Shoutaru should spend recklessly on me to start to repay my youth, my old self—not that he could ever put a price on it."

"What if I think you're worth expensive things?"

"Then you'll know you've lost it."

"Kyoko, please. You know the two monkeys I grew up with. Do you think I ever really had it to begin with?"

She giggled and took the time to pack away the necklace box into her day bag. An interminable span of comfortable silence later, the driver announced, "Darumaya Inn—will madam be disembarking?"

"Um." She didn't want to go, of course. It was warm inside the car, and Hikaru was the right distance from her. He didn't want her to go either—and hit upon the perfect excuse.

"No way. Driver, move on. We only got together today," he explained to her, "I haven't taken you on our first date yet."

"First date?" she bit her lip. "I thought lunch was it."

He was aghast. She apologized for underestimating him. He understood they were both tired, and told the driver to take them to his building.

"You're taking me home?" she squeaked.

"Yes," he replied quizzically before grasping what she'd meant. "No—not. In. That. Way."

The driver pulled up to his building and announced it. Hikaru asked her to wait in the car while he ran upstairs for some stuff. Kyoko demurely looked into her lap and thought of calling Kanae, but the call didn't go through. Sighing at the shitty signals, Kyoko looked out into traffic.

Everyone and their brother finding out about her mother, about Shoutaru had been a nasty wake-up call. The world she had chased her not-prince to wasn't always one full of hard work and good people. It was a life of invaded privacy and divulged secrets. Strangely, she wasn't as devastated as she thought she would be. Until she came to Tokyo there had been no one to hide her mother's cruelty from. Everyone in her neighborhood knew of it; knew also how the Fuwa family had taken her in. She'd been judged for both her parents' shortcomings and being Shou's…what?

It _**still**_ drove her nuts to think that the boy she'd grown up with never thought of her quite so fondly as she'd thought of him. Oh, he had never been evil—Shou had never been born cruel or raised cruel, had never been able to hold a candle to her mother. His callousness came later to him in life.

Unlike her mother. Mogami mamma never did tell her daughter why she hated her so much. Mogami mamma had never confessed to anyone else for Kyoko to overhear because she had no one to talk to. There was no one in her life but Kyoko…and she'd left _**that **_burden behind…

"It's been twenty minutes! My brothers are terrible. I'm sorry—I brought you ice cream though." Hikaru peered at her through the open window. "Are you okay?"

She quit musing instantaneously. "Where are we going?"

"We're taking my car to the Metropolitan Government Office," he elucidated as he held the door open for her. Handing her the ice cream cone, he tipped the driver and sent him off. Kyoko was like,

"Fudge and strawberry is an unusual flavor. Plus, don't the observation decks close at five?"

"Ah," Hikaru was glad she asked, "I called in a favor from a friend that manages the café on the Northern deck. He's promised to keep it open just for us. We'll watch the sun set and watch the city awake."

"Doesn't the sun set in the west?"

"Ah," he was unhappy she asked, "A common misconception."

He led her to his ride and she took the passenger seat with some pride. As he ignited his engine (innuendo unintended) he said, "To be completely honest? Not my choice for a first date."

"What?" Kyoko looked at him like he was crazy. "My 'first date' with Shou was when he took me to a teriyaki stand on my birthday rather than making me cook. Believe me Hikaru-san—um, Hikaru. You've surpassed him."

"If you don't mind," crossly the guitarist said, "I'm not gonna use him as a standard, okay? I was joking when I said about the necklace…"

"Fine," Kyoko relented, "What _**was**_ your first choice for a first date?"

"With you. There's this place in Hakone where they'll do whatever you want for the right amount of money…"

"In the red light district?" she asked innocuously. Hikaru slammed the brakes at a red light.

"What! No. …You knew exactly what you were saying, didn't you? Cute. No, this is a respectable place. I'd have arranged a dinner for two and whisked you away overnight there. Well, I know how much you love Disneyland," because Yappa! Kimigure Rock had shot a special episode there and Kyoko had nearly expired of joy, "The place would be set up as a palace banquet hall. And you'd be a princess, and I'd be King Henry or whoever."

She clapped her hands together. "That sounds perfect! Who's King Henry?"

"Someone too dead to talk about." He turned up the volume on the stereo. "Listen! I love this song."

"Yeah," she fondly recalled, "When it first came out you had it playing constantly on the show sets between takes. Drove Yuusei-san mad."

Later, after arriving at their destination and having a good look around the empty-but-for-a-waiter café, Kyoko beamed and told Hikaru:

"Forget Hakone. That sounds like a fairy tale, but this is really nice too. Thank you."

"You're right: forget Hakone. I should've kept that a secret to surprise you with later. We were going to do that—Yuusei and Shin'ichi and I—for your birthday this year. To make up for not knowing about your birthday last year. Is it last year? I can never tell with people born at the end of December."

"You were what?" her eyes were wide. "Why? To go that far for a colleague…"

"How many dinners and lunches and after work snacks do we have to ask you out for it to sink in?" demanded the brunet, waving at the waiter to bring over some virgin drinks, "You're not a colleague, you're a friend. One of our favorite people. One of my _**favorite **_people."

"S-sorry," she stammered, flattered and flustered at once.

"Mm. If you think you'll forget it, I can have a poster declaring it super-glued to your back."

He was teasing. She was at ease again.

"I don't think you need to go that far…"

"Hah."

"Hikaru-san? Hikaru?"

"Hmm?"

"You're one of my favorite people too."

He closed his eyes and smelled the strawberry-something the waiter brought to them.

"I won't forget."

And outside, the day faded to night.

**x.x.x.x.x.x**

**abingdon boys school is a real live Japanese band that makes amazing music. They're named for the school Radiohead was formed at and wrote music for notable anime like D. ****Gray****-Man and Darker than Black; also for one video game whose name I can't remember. Name lower cased on purpose. **

**The narrator is real and the video game is Wave Race: Blue Storm for the GameCube. It's an Easter egg unlocked by a cheat code. Go to YouTube and search "You have chosen poorly" for more details on how to unlock it. **

**Hey there, anonymous reviewer. In response to your criticism—I believe that any and all fanfiction is 'out-of-character'. But I see what you mean; I can't really help you there because these guys play out this way when I get inside their heads. As for discrepancies from the manga canon, I wish you'd tell me what they were so I can fix them. Also, **_**this **_**is how I was gonna put Kyoko and Hikaru together. Like it? Love it? Lemme know. **


	4. I'll Have My People Call Your People

**Sigh For Me**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! or the song "Hey Julie" by Fountains of Wayne. **

**A/N: Nameless reviewer broke my heart by pointing out that Viz depicts Bridge Rock as consisting of three best friends with the same last name instead of three brothers. I went back and found that yeah, on the page they're introduced an aside confirms that fact. I have no excuse. It was really shitty of me to forget that. Bear with my mistake through the rest of this story. **

**A uke is the stereotype of the submissive partner in a gay romance. **

**Also, enough people have asked me about the time I took to update this chapter that I feel bad about putting off writing it for so long. However, I can't regret choosing my education over writing this; I can only promise to try better for the final chapter. **

**Last but hardly least the rest of this story is dedicated to Choi Si Won, the Korean actor that plays Ren in the marvelously faithful Taiwanese Skip Beat! drama adaptation. His hotness and skill persuaded me to work on this every time I saw him on screen. I love you, I love you, I love you, man who will never read this admission of ardor. **

**Chapter Four: **_I'll Have My People Call Your People _

**x.x.x.x.x.x**

Ren gripped Yukihito's hands tightly in his. "We haven't been apart since we met. What am I going to do without you, Yashiro-san?"

"What are you talking about? What about when I was sick? I'll be following you in a mere week. Let go of me, Ren, we're not married yet."

Everyone staring at the terminal begged to differ. Ren's big fat suitcases had been checked in and he had been about to get to the gate himself when he suddenly noticed how his fellow fliers were kissing loved ones good bye. All but him, who only had Yukihito to cling to.

"Aren't you going to miss me at all?" the brunet made eyes at the blond. Yukihito stared coldly back.

"I know what you're doing and I'm not amused. Don't make me deal with a scandal that says Tsuruga Ren is gay for his manager; LME has already had quite a week."

"You're right, this is immature of me." Ren relented. "I'm sorry."

"Hmm. Well, if it keeps the smile on your face: yes. I'll miss you."

The pole of a man shouldered his carry-on bag and shrugged. "Mogami won't, will she?"

"Ren…" Yukihito was helpless in the face of the mostly American guy's girl trouble. "You're going to Los Angeles to forget about her. There can't possibly be anything there that will remind you of her. Clear your head and get ready to work when the production unit hits."

"Yes sir. And I'm glad you'll miss me. Glad you're here to send me off." Ren smiled, and then frowned. "How on earth did you keep it from the President? That I'm leaving today."

"I thought you wouldn't appreciate the show he'd make of it, so I took advantage of him being distracted by Ishibashi. Maybe I should have let him know if you feel so sad to go without fanfare…"

"No, no," hastily Ren patted Yukihito's shoulder, "This is fine. Really. I'll see you in a week, then."

"Don't forget! Three meals a day! I'll know if you've skipped."

Ren nodded and watched him leave, and when he turned his back Yukihito pivoted for a last glimpse. The crowd couldn't swallow that impressive height, and he waited till his charge was out of sight before departing himself.

The tritely named Sakura Lounge fed Ren and housed him while he waited to board his flight. The placid brown and beige décor was familiar to him as most other parts of the airport were. Ren loved to fly. He loved the feel of being on a journey, and he loved most of all looking down on the clouds. He'd never known the exhaustion of laying over in a foreign airport for eighteen hours; he'd never known the leg-cramps of an economy seat. It was first class suites and premium memberships for him the whole way, and it was bloody fun.

So when he boarded the Boeing 777 and made his way to the first class cabin, the stewardess that accosted him with bad news was the first of her kind to do so.

"Tsuruga-sama, I'm afraid there's been some trouble. Your seat is currently unsuitable for usage—we have room for you in the business class. Of course this slight will be made up to you with a free flight next time. Is that all right?"

He squirmed at the thought of sitting next to a stranger on a laptop, planning a conference and also an affair with his secretary, but graciously assented. As she led him to his new seat, he asked.

"Why am I being downgraded, exactly?"

"The last passenger that sat there had a bout of air sickness, and we don't have time to replace the seat. The stains…"

"Ah, I see," Ren said politely, and she didn't give further details. After stowing his carry-on in the overhead compartment, she beamed and asked if he wanted a drink. Ren looked down at the man slouched and sleeping in the window seat and felt a bizarre compulsion to order all the alcohol on the plane.

"An orange juice, please," he said instead, and turned off his phone, and sat down next to Vie Ghoul's lead singer Reino.

000

"School!" Kyoko threw aside her comforter as she awoke.

"Phone!" she noticed as it began to ring.

"Hello!" she shouted without checking who it was from.

"Your mother is dying."

A terrible person inside her said, so what?

A terribly drunk Kuu in her ear hoarsely went on to moan, "She has but months left. Or is it weeks? …Days?"

An ocean away, Kyoko took a deep breath. Her birth mother may or may not deserve death; Kyoko may or may not be a despicable human being. Kuu, her daddy, Kuon's beloved papa, was drinking to drown the pain of his wife's demise. A shudder juddered through her. How wretched. She was never going to find a good mother after all. But wait! Julie was alive yet. Kuon, in Kyoko's body, could still see her in Los Angeles to pay his last respects. Was a month enough to feel a mother's love, and prepare for her death?

"It's some kind of cancer. Bone or blood or beer. Wait, Jake," Kuu put forth his doubt to someone else, "Is beer a type of cancer?"

"Dad…"

"Kyoko! Oh God, Kyoko. Come home to us, baby. She just wants to see you before she dies. She needs you, honey. Mamma wants to kiss you before she goes."

Tears were unstoppable; they flowed from her eyes and crashed from her chin onto the demure swell of her breasts. Her night shirt went damp. The most beautiful waterfalls in the world and Niagara be damned; Victoria be damned.

"I'm coming, Dad. You tell her to hold on for me. And stop _**drinking.**_ Please wait for me. I'm coming."

A minute later she was dialing Kanae's number. It was eight in the morning though, and while Kyoko was running late for the school she only rarely attended Kanae had punctually arrived on set to a shoot, and left her cell phone on silent in her coat. Kyoko tried a few more times but the brunette didn't answer. She next called Ren, but his phone was switched off. She had a memory of the words _Los Angeles _coming out of his mouth. A feeling of being lost on the ocean swept over her. There were only two people she could think of turning to for help and they were both beyond her reach.

After a moment of that, her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Hikaru wanted to wish her a good morning and make sure she knew what a nice time he had had last night. Also he was in possession of tickets for a new movie that was showing in the afternoon, if he wasn't being too presumptuous. If he was, it was cool: he'd just give them to his neighbors and wait for her to be available. It was a really good movie, people had told him, and he wanted to watch it with Kyoko.

Hands trembling a little, she rang her boyfriend.

000

Hikaru was in the eye of a storm of activity. Their manager had indeed arrived first thing in the morning and was shoving the three young men around, getting them to pack for the journey. Yuusei was arguing about how many suits he could possibly need for a two week trip and Shin'ichi was whining about having to take underwear. Hikaru was cleaning out the fridge by means of eating everything in it. No one could say he wasn't helping, mostly because everyone was busy paying attention to other details.

He was eating leftover pizza with leftover soymilk when his phone lit up with Kyoko's image. She was in her Bo costume, holding the head under her arm and a sloppy grin in her face. Her hair was sticking to her skull with sweat and she didn't look a prize at all. He had no inclination whatsoever to change it. Smiling, he picked up.

"Hello?"

The smile sliding off his face caught Yuusei's attention. He raised an eyebrow. Hikaru waved him away and walked out the door to take the call, his manager's exasperated protests unheeded.

A span of time later during which two arguments were laid to rest (no less than _**four**_ suits and Shin'ichi would buy boxers or briefs or boxer-briefs in L.A. as the need arose) Hikaru ran back in and snatched up his wallet. Scrounging around for car keys, he announced:

"I'm not coming with you guys."

Their manager felt the beginning of a pounding headache in the base of his skull.

000

Kyoko was in class, sitting as if she were a block of stone, when the intercom summoned her to the principal's office. She gathered her things and ran out in the middle of a trigonometry lesson. Hikaru was awaiting her in the receptionist's room, having spoken to the appropriate people about plucking her out early. In front of a handful of people he slid his arms around her waist and over her back, pulling her head to his shoulders and hugging her without a word.

It woke something up in her. She pushed away anxiety and tension and self-doubt and self-loathing to seize the day and act. He led the way to his car and she carried her own bag with her passport in it. In her childhood Shou's entire family had used to vacation in Korea and Malaysia during the slow season. Thinking Shou might at any time whisk her away for a shotgun wedding Kyoko had kept her passport valid even in Tokyo. Upon entering show business she was prepared for overseas shooting. After finding out about Kuu's wife she was ready to leave the country as soon as time permitted.

"As a member of LME you usually have a widely viable visa. Normally it takes a year for the company to register you but…well," Hikaru took a left, and then a right, "Love Me section. President's pet project. Apparently you and Kotonami-san already have visas for many locations and America is one of them."

Kyoko had been contemplating the funds required for the journey and momentarily was derailed by this revelation. "What about Amamiya-san?"

"Oh, not yet. Maybe the President's waiting on something from her, or maybe it's already in the works."

"How much would a ticket cost?"

"I booked two on the next flight out. It's this evening." He grinned, reluctantly. "Same time we might've gone to that movie."

Kyoko looked a little panicked. "You're coming with me? You paid for me?"

Keeping one hand on the steering, he covered her thin fingers with the other. "You can't go alone. How good is your English? How good is your American? And I'm heading there anyway. You can pay me back later. You can leave a message for Kotonami-san, and another for the President. They'll both be glad to know I'm by your side." He looked a little hurt. "And you might be glad too."

She slipped her fingers out from under his hand and touched his shoulder. He turned to wallow in her eyes for a second.

"I am," said Kyoko. "I am."

000

Reino dreamed.

Handsome young men howled dramatically through his subconscious. His latent bisexuality took notice, and presently there was a freezing feeling in his nether regions that battled the heat of the moment. He blinked in dazed stupefaction and saw that someone had dumped ice cubes in his lap. The seat next to him was empty. Popping one cube into his mouth and shoveling the rest into the plastic cup rolling at his feet, he spared only a fleeting glance at the breath taking blue of the Pacific before shutting his eyes again.

Reino dreamed further, with greater lucidity. And this time, he knew whom he was dreaming of.

Further down the plane Ren stared at his reflection in the mirror. An hour into the flight Reino had got a hard-on and Ren reached the fifty feet of crap that lay under the rock bottom he'd previously assumed he'd hit. After enduring a few painful moments of affronted sensibility he'd requested the ice of a flight attendant. Carelessly tossing the lot at the offending area, he'd stalked away from his fellow traveler to stare longingly at the private little cabins in first class. Another attendant had thought to shoo him away before she recognized and welcomed him instead. Still—those long legs of his only needed so much stretching. Yet—he wasn't prepared to return to his seat. Hence—the sojourn in the cramped water closet.

A rap at the door bade him reluctantly open it. A fifteen year old kid waited with a tortured look on her face.

"I've been waiting fifteen minutes, man. Are you done?"

It was in English (the language of at least some of his forebears) that Ren graciously gave up his hiding place.

Reino woke up with a start and turned to his left.

"Oh hi."

Ren nodded dully at him.

"I dreamed about you, Kuon."

Ren goggled duly at him.

Reino stopped a passing steward to request a wet napkin. He received it, used it, and drank a glass of water. Then he turned to Ren and resumed scaring him.

"You just had to choose this seat? On this plane? Why are you going back to L.A., Kuon?"

The dark haired star hissed. "Those are my lines. Keep it down. Don't call me that. I don't know how you discovered my true name. Regardless, we are _**not**_ on a first name basis."

"In America we would be. We're not strangers, you have to understand that. I saw it all. Your past." Reino stared eerily into the actor's eyes. "I was right; I didn't want to know."

"I want to change seats."

"No, hold on. Now that the thing I feared has already happened, there's no need to not do this." He reached into his carry-on bag; Ren flinched. Reino only brought out a book and a business card to give to Ren and left the horrific paraphernalia of his demonic rituals behind.

"My friend Nanba Miu is adapting that book into a movie—animation, not live action. She wants you to voice act in it and asked me to get your contact number if you're interested."

Ren stared at the book in his lap. "This is gay smut."

"Yes."

"Nanba Miu…yes, a director of anime. Why did she ask _**you**_?"

"I told her I knew you."

"You don't _**know**_ me!"

"I do now."

Ren hesitated. "It's a good story." He coughed. "I only know because an ex-girlfriend used to…"

"Hey man, you don't have to hide anything from me," Reino said evenly. "If you like to read that kind of thing you can own up. No problem."

"I don't like to read it! An ex-girlfriend used to…"

"Are you interested in the job?"

"Why me? There are people who dedicate entire careers to this. Why not choose an actual voice-actor?"

Reino shrugged. "She likes you. She wants to test you—she heard you're doing that Blowjob character anonymously so she wants to know if you can voice-act without giving the impression of a superstar."

To say Ren was flabbergasted would be to speak the truth. "BJ. BJ, not Blowjob. And _**how does she even—**_"

"You make me sad, Kuon. Don't you even know who your director's wife is? Miu's husband is making your fancy foreign-collaboration movie. He told her."

"And she just decided to pass it on to you?" He was unimpressed with her irresponsibility. The entire crew was being kept in the dark about the actor's true identity; and here someone was merrily passing around secrets like candy on Halloween.

"Excuse me. I was there when he told her."

The actor passed a hand over his eyes. In less than three hours Reino had really, truly gotten to know him better than Yukihito or Lory or even Ren's own parents. This was a scary guy, with scary friends. "My head aches."

"You don't need to respond right away. Take your time. Miu thinks you'd make the perfect uke though—"

"What," Ren said sharply, "She's casting me as Usagi? Not Iba or Haruomi?"

"You know the names?"

"She's casting me as an uke?"

"Haha, you know the names. I'll tell her you've accepted."

"I have not accepted."

"Kuon…" Reino sounded amused and _**fond.**_ Ren stared and felt a lump form in his throat. He swallowed, refusing to deal with the feelings that arose of being addressed by his birth name, his beautiful name. By no means was Reino his first choice to be called by that appellation after years of exile. He would much rather his father…or Yukihito—or, no, Mogami Kyoko…!

"Kuon," Reino repeated, "Can I give you some advice?"

"I'm not going to take the job."

"You will; that's not even what I want to talk about. It's about the man you murdered."

Ren lowered his eyes. This was the moment of truth. If even Reino was disgusted with his past, there was no need to doubt how badly Kyoko would take it. After all, this man was scum. The lowest of the low. Kyoko was an angel, a girl so pure even show business couldn't corrupt her. Even Ren could never touch her.

"I think Rick placed a curse on you."

Ren's head snapped up, he gawked at the straight-faced singer.

"You've never had lasting love since he died, right? Maybe you're cursed by the man from beyond the grave. Maybe that's why Akazukin will never accept you. That could be why you're so lonely at the top…"

Reino was a buffoon. A complete and total clown. A joker that scared only kids like Kyoko with his supernaturalism act and his uncanny eyes. Ren was an idiot for falling under his spell, for being impressed and intimidated by a stalker who got his kicks from being hated. He held up a hand to stop the visual kei weirdo in his tracks.

"Reino, can I give _**you**_ some advice?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Stop harassing Mogami." Ren's voice was deadly deep; Ren's tone could make a brave man weep. "You know me, and you think that was the only thing you had to be scared of. But Reino, you only know my past. You don't know what I'm like now and you definitely can't see my future. If I hear you've discomforted her in any way I will personally ruin your career and the rest of your life to go with."

Reino raised an eyebrow. Ren leaned in close.

"You will die alone and penniless if you fuck with me."

After that, he really did switch seats. Politely asked an older woman if she would do him a favor; she was only too happy. Reino judged his fingernails and glanced often over at Ren—now sitting several rows ahead and two seats over. For a moment he'd thought they could be friends. For a moment he'd underestimated his own creepiness and Ren's unwillingness to let unnecessary people close to him. Reino wasn't a buffoon, or a clown or a joker. There was no curse on Ren. He had realized at the last moment that the advice he'd really wanted to give was the least comforting thing Ren would ever hear.

There was nothing after death. It was only life that mattered. Ren was alive—he had to live. Rick was dead—he was only a memory.

000

Hikaru didn't eat on aeroplanes much, so they made a meal at a restaurant on their way to the airport after packing up their collective, respective luggage and bidding adieu to the relevant people. Hikaru was largely indifferent to flying, so he let Kyoko have the porthole seat. Still, leaving Japan by air yielded ocean quickly, and few things matched the shine of sun on the Pacific in sheer scale of beauty. They both turned their faces to the blues outside to avoid facing the blues that clung to Kyoko's soul.

Hikaru didn't know what to say to someone that might lose a parent in the near future, so they stayed very quiet.

In fact, Hikaru didn't even know that Kyoko's parents were still together. He'd been fairly sure she'd been raised by the mother alone—he couldn't imagine how the girl's father had found her again. And in California, no less. He supposed there was a fascinating story behind it that he could hear later, when it wouldn't be insensitive to ask. He wondered if Kyoko's father was American and whether or not that would explain his daughter's amazing eyes. He tried to remember how to fill the immigration forms they'd asked to write out at the end of the flight. He balked at the thought that they might well be heading towards a funeral and failed to convince himself that he was reliable enough to help Kyoko through whatever emotional turmoil lay ahead.

He wished, as he did on occasion, that he wasn't such a nice guy. Their relationship was deepening quickly, and he worried that as contrived circumstances brought them abruptly together contrived circumstances would sap their feelings of freshness and vitality, leaving behind an even sadder Kyoko and a bitterer Hikaru. Both of them were depending on each other and required something of the romance itself. Kyoko had a hunger in her that she needed to sate and an anger he wanted to understand. Hikaru didn't want a fling. He wanted love, and was prepared to dig a well in his heart until he found it.

000

Takarada Maria was a princess in the making, a young lady of infinite refinement, and as such she attended a school so fancy they had tea breaks instead of recesses and the uniform was made of silk and satin. It had an extravagant French name and held plays and recitals regularly. Maria's elective was the piano. She played a leading role in most dramas. Takarada Lory, a doting and devoted grandfather, not only attended every performance in lieu of his son but also came to rehearsals should he have a scrap of spare time.

Maria's fingers flew along the keys, her accompaniment struck up their violins and things and a Rachmaninov concerto filled the still air of the auditorium. Lory, in the fifth row or so, crossed his arms and beamed with pride. Sebastian sidled up to him.

"News, sir. Ishibashi Hikaru-sama and Mogami Kyoko-sama are boarding a plane to take them out of the country at this moment."

"Eloping already? Ah well. 'To the virgins, make much of time.'"

"Actually sir, they're flying to Los Angeles to visit Mogami-sama's parents. Her mother has taken ill."

Lory looked to his aide, startled. "No joke? Mogami-kun is on terrible terms with her mother. Didn't we investigate a little?"

"And lost her trail in Okinawa, yes sir." Sebastian was not happy to recall one of those rare times when he failed to deliver as per his master's instructions. Professional pride niggled at him, yet he moved on. "Ishibashi-sama's manager relayed that Mogami-sama got to know via a call from her father. I took the liberty of picking up her incoming calls list—the phone is company-issue after all—and... Well, it appears the only call she received this morning was from overseas, sir. Hizuri Kuu-sama, actually."

Lory immediately lost interest, and turned his eyes back to his precocious, precious granddaughter. "Well, mystery solved. Looks like Mogami-kun was taken for a ride over Julie's dramatic claims of impending death. She'll be fine, if a little sore; young Hikaru has quite a head on his shoulders. A romantic getaway after all, isn't it?"

Sebastian said, "Earlier this morning Tsuruga-sama _**also **_flew to Los Angeles."

The boss's head swivelled round again. "Oho! Sneaking out from under the old man's nose. He'll get what's coming to him. Now _**I **_feel like jetting off to the Golden State as well, only…" he gestured to the stage. "My age and responsibilities hinder me."

"It's good to see you finally growing up, Takarada-sama," murmured Sebastian.

"Taking a sly shot at the boss, are you? Ah, go ahead. I'm too mature to let it bother me." Something else struck Lory. "Have you gotten those cheats I asked you for?"

His trusty sidekick nodded. "I texted you a link, sir."

The grandfather, the mature one, dug out his phone eagerly. "Finally. That stupid gal game thought it could outfox me? Even if it's set up so that it's impossible to get those two together, Seichi-kun will take responsibility for playing with a girl's feelings!"

000

Touchdown at midnight.

That's what the captain anticipated, anyway. Ren stared out of the porthole at the thick clouds just below the wing of the plane. They were orange and pink from the light pollution the powerful metropolis was pumping out, a sea of smoke over the city of stars. The plane descended sharply and Los Angeles reared its ugly, impressive face. Ren blinked at the brilliance of the lights. There was no one at his side to share his homecoming with and so it hardly felt like one. No sentiment sprung up in him; no vestige of vulnerability wormed through his heart. It was just another city and he had another job. He glanced over at Reino, who was dozing. He flipped through the book that had still been in his hands when he'd walked away from the menace, and found a business card with a number he could call if he was interested in the role offered to him.

He snorted and peeked out of the window again. The runway leaped to meet them and the pilot announced their arrival. They taxied and stopped and filed out of the plane, not yet breathing open American air. Still Ren thought he detected a hint in the atmosphere. In the chatter he was awash in, in the fashion the tired passengers dressed in. The actor himself was carefully attired, uncommonly good-looking (as was his norm) in black pants and a beautifully tailored white shirt. The looks he got were not uninterested.

Customs was a breeze; he was an American citizen coming home. The international arrivals terminal hadn't changed in all his years away. He pushed his cart of luggage up the incline to the receiving area and was accosted by the friends he'd asked to pick him up.

Cody and Cambria Hart were twins he'd attended school with. They hadn't changed in all his years away either. He hadn't kept in touch with them but for the occasional Facebook interaction. Yet here they were in the middle of the night, offering him a place in their lives and (more importantly) their home. Cambria was holding a bouquet of balloons and Cody a three-foot black teddy bear with a red bow tie. When Ren finished hugging him, he raised an eyebrow.

"It's not for you," the man assured him, "I bought it because I spilled coffee on it."

They were both just shy of six feet, the twins, and had the same soft brown hair and hazel eyes. Cambria's tresses were waist-length and plaited neatly, though, while Cody left his messy curls short and refused to befoul them with combs. They lived and worked separately in San Francisco but they were currently house-sitting for their parents in the shore town of Laguna Beach in Orange County. It was more than an hour's drive away and Ren had a friend or two from Japan that had settled closer to the airport here, but they lived with their other halves. Ren didn't look forward to being a third wheel, so he'd bothered the siblings for a place to stay.

Cambria took his cart in exchange for the balloons. "Come on, let's get out of here. Corn, did you have dinner? There are leftovers at home but we can pick up a little something on the way if you want."

Ren was about to say he wasn't hungry at all, but then he thought of Yukihito and smiled. "Leftovers are fine. Did you have to get the balloons?"

"Hey, blame the brother. Cody thought it would be rude to receive you empty-handed. I hope you stuck to the same sentiment and brought us gifts?"

"Is shaving cream a gift?"

The woman sighed. "I'll take what I can get."

During the drive, Cody drifted off and Cambria yawned. A radio station entertained them with fifteen minutes of banter and two minutes of song. The Jeep—a Cherokee that the twins' father had refused to let go of since nineteen ninety-nine—sped along the highway. Ren thought he saw the darkened spine of Disneyland's Swiss Matterhorn, but he also thought he saw a bald eagle sweep majestically by the window so there was a chance he'd fallen asleep at some point.

He did remember them exiting the highway and entering an endless road flanked by trees and low rolling hills, and then he could hear the surf pounding on a beach. Before he could crane his neck for a glimpse the other side of the ocean he'd crossed they took a turn and climbed onto another street. It ascended a hill—or a series of hills—and eventually Ren was in the Top of the World neighborhood. They drove till the entrance of the park that consisted of _**the rest of the hill range**_ and trails for hikers to get bitten by rattlesnakes on. The entrance was a simple metal barrier denying cars, bound by a cul-de-sac. Across the Hart home was a more civilized park, the kind children played in. It was the Hart home that Ren was interested in.

It was a grey building whose top floor was at street level. The high hill dropped away under it to the valley below, and the house dropped with it for three levels of clever building, each level jutting out beyond the boundary of its predecessor. The Jeep ground to a stop with the satisfying crunch of wheel of grit and they piled out silently, each of them carrying a piece of luggage. Once inside, Cody insisted on playing the good host and dragged him to a seat by the seamless windows while he heated up some food for his guest. Cambria kept him company, and they got reacquainted. They looked out at the quiet valley, the slumbering town and the white surf breaking on the shore just beyond it. It was a beautiful home, even if it did have a cougar problem in the evenings. The trails attracted the beasts, and Cody attracted the beauties.

Ren ate. Ren was shown to his room. Ren stayed awake in the darkness, thinking of Kyoko and Reino and Yukihito and Rick.

000

"By the way," Hikaru asked, "Is your brother coming too?"

His thespian consort frowned and said, "Excuse me?"

When Hikaru and Kyoko emerged from the Los Angeles International Airport, no familiar faces stood to greet them. Instead Hikaru hailed a cab and gave the driver the address Kyoko relayed to him in Japanese. While conversation had avoided her family during the flight, the umber haired singer acknowledged that he could no longer edge around the issue that had brought them away from Japan. He frowned back at Kyoko's incomprehension and raised his hand to his ear in a pantomime of a phone call.

"Cain-nii, Cain-nii!" he hung up. "That brother."

Kyoko stared ingenuously for a moment more in total nescience before snapping her fingers and exclaiming, "What a misunderstanding! That wasn't my brother; that was a… a colleague. For an acting job."

Hikaru groaned and rubbed his eyes. "And you were calling him Cain-nii even off the set? You're a dedicated one."

"It's important to be able to slip into character at the slightest cue. What you were hearing was not the voice of Mogami Kyoko but Setsuka, Cain Heel's precious younger sister."

He blinked, Californian sunshine splaying across his face as they turned on to the highway. "Setsu...ka. Setsuka...Heel? Oh god. Oh my _**god, **_it was _**you **_at the carnival!"

She blushed, cab shadows skittering across her cheeks as they veered into the carpool lane. "You must have signed so many things for so many people. You actually remember Setsuka?"

"Of course." He passed a hand over his eyes in disbelief. "You were so weird. I was so drunk. I remember thinking you were so—uh...desirable." He blushed too. Setsuka Heel had been a smoking hot fantasy stepped straight out of a magazine. Hikaru recalled that white cuff he'd signed, and the bared midriff he'd ducked past to sign it, and those lovely legs below. The pang of base want of that moment had been momentous. Only the ten foot tall brick wall that was her brother had stopped him from making a pass at her. He controlled his gaze in the here and now and forced it to stay on Kyoko's face. "Then your brother back then was an actor? Haha, did I know him too?"

Kyoko went white.

Hikaru went slack-jawed. "Why—who—no—not. The height. But the face—oh, oh god. Magic? _**Make-up**_? Witchcraft. Kyoko, you're telling me—I mean not telling me—that I met Tsuruga Ren that night?"

She nodded. He whistled.

"When they called him 'a formidable actor' I had _**no idea**_. Or maybe it's the make-up artist whose skill I should be in awe of."

"Jelly-san is amazing," she agreed. "But you cannot tell anyone! It was a secret assignment and I already spoiled it by telling Yashiro-san."

Hikaru had no idea why Ren would be working on a project his own manager didn't know about. There was the possibility that it was something he'd signed up for without the man's consent or involvement but that generally only happened when stars were breaking up with their managers. For this particularly smash hit pair to fall apart would be...Hikaru struggled for a phrase that bore him relevance. It would be another controversy spawned by LME personnel. He sighed and wondered if he should buy the President some flowers.

"Hikaru...?"

He smiled. "I won't tell a soul."

Gratefully Kyoko nodded. "It means a lot to me that I can trust you, because sometimes it feels like I have so many secrets..."

Curiosity piqued, Hikaru leaned in. "Secrets?"

She nodded glumly. "Not mine; you know all of mine. But Tsuruga-san's, and Moko-san's, and Amamiya-san's. And," her eyes glinted with frost and hell's vengeance, "a few of Shou's. Just a few."

"Dump them all in me," he put his palm over his heart, scooting closer. "You can keep their secrets and I'll keep yours. Take your time and let me know. My little reservoir of trust."

She giggled. "What?"

He tried again. "My lake of reliability? My garbage ground of data?"

She giggled again, and he said more silly words. He put his head on her shoulder and took her hand, and they kept touching all the way to Bel-Air. They disembarked on a pleasant, private street called Linda Flora Drive that was studded with luxurious manses. An arcing steel gate barred the way into the abode of Kyoko's parents. The grounds were surrounded by a low field stone wall, but the cameras mounted at strategic points along it discouraged intruders. The section of wall just beside the gate had a louvered alcove in which an elderly watchman sat reading the paper. Hikaru paid the cab fare, hoisted his bag over his shoulder and approached him.

"Good morning," he called cheerfully, "Can you buzz the door open for us?"

The old man put the paper aside carefully, smoothing out wrinkles on its surface. The wrinkles on his face only grew more pronounced as he drank their appearance in.

"You and the lady? You expected?"

Hikaru looked to Kyoko, who nodded. The old man stood and rang the intercom.

"Agafea?" he asked into the panel, "Couple of kids want in. Yeah, hold on." He turned to them. "No one's expected today. It's that day of the month again."

"This is the daughter of the house," Hikaru protested, "Just ring them up in there, not...Agafea. We're here to see Mrs. Mogami. This is her daughter."

"No," Kyoko said, having heard _'Mogami_' in all that English.

"No," the old man said, having heard enough. "You got the wrong place. The Mogamis don't live here, whoever they are. There is no daughter in this house."

Hikaru turned to Kyoko, who coughed.

"Ask for Hizuri Kuu," she suggested.

He opened his mouth, stared at her, and then shut it again. It was a waste of time; he had to say something to a statement like that. "Hizuri Kuu is your _**father**_?"

She seemed embarrassed, bless her. "In a way. I'll explain as soon as we see Mamma. Please, why won't he let us in?"

"He says the Mogamis don't live here. A moment." The singer switched back to English, a little dizzy from the linguistic challenge of it and maybe being told that a legendary actor was his supposedly amateur actress girlfriend's father (only _**in a**_ _**way**_ of course). "Can you just talk to the lady of the house or something? Tell them Mogami Kyoko is here."

"Agafea's the lady of the house as far as unexpected visitors are concerned," the man replied sternly, "Especially today."

"_**What **_is so special about today?" Hikaru was beginning to be a peeved.

"Wouldn't the girl know if she's their daughter?" the old man dismissed him with a wave of the hand. "Kid, come on. You're a fan, I get it. Probably from Japan? Yeah, it figures. We get guys like you a lot and on most days, I'll be honest, you'd have gotten an autograph or a picture or a tour of the grounds if Kuu was in. You got a pretty unique story, but it's full of holes. Go look at Hollywood; take your girlfriend to a beach. Come back tomorrow; he's usually at home and in a good mood the day after."

It had been a while since Hikaru had gone unrecognized by a plebeian, but the disconcerting experience here was being called a fan of someone else. He sighed and tried to explain to the guy who was only doing his duty.

"No, I get it. You get a lot of riff-raff if Hizuri Kuu is living here. But I promise you, if you turn us away today he won't be happy when he finds out about it tomorrow. We're here to see...Julie." Kyoko nodded to confirm the name. "She doesn't have much time left to reconnect with her daughter, and I don't think she'd want to lose a second, let alone a day. Call the house, say the name. To Agafea if you will. Maybe she'll recognize it; maybe she can find a moment to slip it to Kuu. What's the harm?"

The old man shook his head. "I told you. Not today..." but his palms were itchy. Hikaru took the hint. He grabbed the man's right hand.

"Try."

"Alright, alright," the man groused, pocketing a currency note. "It couldn't hurt to try." He called Agafea again; he talked, listened and grinned. He beckoned to his guests. "She says she _**has**_ heard the name recently and to let you in so she can take a look at you."

Hikaru relayed the message to Kyoko, who exhaled in relief. They stood clear of the gates that swung inwards when the watchman flipped a switch. He stepped out of his alcove and took out a remote from his pocket to point at his station. He clicked a button and a neat little shutter dragged down across the little corner.

"Come on in," he said, "There's a buggy around the back."

It was actually a golf cart, and he explained how long the front drive was and how stupid they were to have sent off the cab. Kyoko and Hikaru climbed in and set their bags on their laps. As the cart began to trundle up the bluestone drive, the driver cleared his throat and began to speak.

"On your left is the lesser lawn, extending up to the east wing of the house. On the right you can see the hedge line, made of tall honeysuckle in the back, kaleidoscope abelia in the front and dappled willow in the middle. The exterior designing was done by Mrs. Hizuri's dear friend Noriaki Ito, the famed landscaper. In the summer of nineteen eighty eight—"

"Excuse me," Hikaru interrupted in response to Kyoko's confused request for a translation, "What are you doing?"

The man looked fractious at having been asked. "It's part of the job description. First-time visitors get a tour of the house. Will you listen?"

"No," Hikaru decided, "We can just say we've heard if asked but really, there's no need."

So they approached the manor in silence. It was built, as befitting California, with timber but some clever architect had fashioned the outer walls to look like dark limestone. It matched the boundary wall perfectly in color if not character. The house was at two storeys high with large windows on each floor and a slender Russian homemaker waiting for them at the grand double doors.

"Hello," she said in an American accent, "My name is Agafea. The gentleman will of course need no help carrying his luggage in."

"No," Hikaru agreed, "He won't."

They didn't have a great deal of it anyway. Hikaru had trusted his bandmates to bring over his stuff, and had packed a change of clothes and a toothbrush into Kyoko's shoulder bag. Her larger bag he carried in exchange. Agafea ushered them into the parlor and bade them wait. Hikaru sank into a leather sofa warmed by the aureate sunshine streaming in through the windows. Kyoko hesitated, clearly fighting her urge to remove her shoes inside a house and put some slippers on. The floors were dark wood and no soft footwear was forthcoming from Agafea though, so she sat by Hikaru's side and made a funny face at the funny noise she heard.

"What is that music?" she asked. Her boyfriend cocked a careful ear to decipher the English lyrics.

_Hey Julie, look what they're doin' to me_

_Tryin' to trip me up; tryin' to wear me down_

_Julie I swear it's so hard to bear it_

_And I'd never make it through _

_Without you around~_

"Julie?" Kyoko perked up, recognizing the name when it was repeated. "Mamma?"

She leaped to her feet and rushed out the parlor doors. Hikaru sighed and followed. He ran into Agafea, who snapped at him for not better controlling his woman, and he lingered long enough to load disgust into a look and shoot it at her. Between the foyer and the back doors there was an indoor pool, and that explained the stone floor he had to navigate at some speed. He had time to ponder that there was a lot of stone in a house made for warm, loving parents when he remembered that Kyoko's mother was not a warm loving parent at all, and heaven only knew what kind of father Hizuri Kuu (his head was still spinning a little from the force of that name) was.

Hikaru hurried through the French doors that opened onto a wide, black granite balcony. Stairs to the sides led the way to a rose garden and also Kyoko, who was sprinting along the stepping stones towards...

It could only be described as madness.

_No,_ Hikaru thought as he surveyed the scene more closely, _this is Hizuri Kuu. _

In a gazebo set in the middle of a pond, with a red brick walkway leading to it and fragrant rose surrounding the pond's shore, the yesteryear superstar was serenading a woman.

_And what a woman_. Hikaru walked with less haste towards them. Julie was red of hair and lissom of limb, dressed in a green-and-pink frock and straw sandals. Her smile put dimples in her plump cheeks. Her dark eyes—he could hardly detect the color of them just yet—glittered with tears of joy as Kyoko ran towards the gazebo. Kuu threw his mike on a divan; Julie's voice rang out after his.

"Kyoko!"

"Daddy!"

"Kyoko?"

"Mamma!"

Julie was a diva of extraordinary beauty and entrancing grace. Her curves were gentle and her gaze sweet. All the loveliness in the world had to pour forth from this source. All the loveliness of the world could be contained in this one woman. She was stunning, and Hikaru was stunned to see that she was not Kyoko's mother. There was no way. Not an iota of family resemblance struck him as Julie and her husband set about embracing their 'daughter'.

"Baby! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, daddy! I just had to come see. Is it okay? Am I interrupting?"

Julie threw her arms around Kyoko, who shuddered with anticipation fulfilled. This mother was warm and filial and right. "Sweetheart, don't be ridiculous. Of course you're interrupting. But it's only that this was the date we were married on, and your dad is being a romantic fool as usual. It's nowhere near as important as you."

Kyoko's eyes swam with tears."Oh, daddy! You're celebrating it today because you never might get another anniversary with her, isn't it?"

"I...what, honey?"

"Mamma's ill, isn't she. Oh, daddy. You guys must want to spend the remaining time with each other. Why did I come?"

Julie looked at Kuu, who shook his head sadly.

"Is that why you came? I am so, so sorry. You see Kyoko, your mother has a terrible affliction; it's true. It's called dramatization, though. Not cancer."

000

Tsuruga Ren was not a freeloader. Cody Hart was lazing around his home and Cambria was on her way to Catalina Island for the day in order to visit a friend, so Ren was running errands for his hosts. As Ren had no fondness of driving Jeeps, he'd rented a Lexus with his own money. Windows down and music on, he reviewed a list of jobs in his head and headed out.

And pulled over not a mile away from the house he'd left when his phone rang. Ren answered without even looking at the screen because he was so sure it was Yukihito.

"Yashiro-san?"

"...Um, no. This is Kotonami Kanae."

"Kotonami-san?" Ren's blood heated up ever so slightly. To be honest, since Kyoko's birthday, he had come to understand that his most dangerous rival in love was not Fuwa Shou or Kijima Hidehito or even (though he hadn't thought of him as a competitor back then) Ishibashi Hikaru. It was Kanae, at whose voice Kyoko bloomed and blushed. "How did you get this number?" He was using an international SIM card, and the number wasn't the same as his Japanese one.

There was a pause. Ren pictured, with no small amount of satisfaction, Kanae gritting her teeth and preparing to tell him why she was dragged down to the level of investigating his number to call.

"That...girl...is an idiot. She's gone abroad with hardly a goodbye—I checked my voicemail and there it was, an excuse of the flimsiest kind—and I can hardly contact her as she hasn't got international coverage. I went to Sawara-san for help, hoping he had her contact information. The President caught me and insisted that I ask you for...for..."

"A favor?" ventured Ren, who really had no idea what Kyoko was doing out in the world. He wondered what could have summoned her away from her homeland, and got a crawling fearful feeling. If Takarada Lory had thought Ren could help, could Kyoko possibly be in...

"Assistance," Kanae spat, "She's in Los Angeles too. The President says...what?" It appeared someone had interrupted her on the other side of the call. "_**What?**_ Then why have me call him! Sir, I really—alright. Coming. _**In a moment! **_Tsuruga-san," she said stiffly into his ear, "It appears the President has both Ishibashi-san's number and the address they're staying at. Sorry for disturbing you. Good luck with your work. Thank you for your time."

The brunette hung up, and the brunet slowly brought his cell phone away from his ear. The Lexus sat idling by the sidewalk, purring for his foot on her accelerator. Ren's heart was throbbing painfully. He had expected Lory would find out that he'd fled the country, but he hadn't anticipated his cruelty. If Kanae hadn't been forced to call him and spill the beans he might never have found out that the personification of his own hellish immorality had followed him here to the land of his birth with her boyfriend. He might've done his work, dallied with his friends, and driven Yukihito around under the Californian sun blissfully unaware that not a hundred miles away Kyoko too was breathing and behaving cutely for another man's benefit.

He turned off the car, kicked open the door, stomped out onto the street, and slumped down on the sidewalk.

Then his phone rang again.

This time he checked warily to make sure it wasn't Lory with more harassment and harrowing news, but it was only Yukihito. Ren brightened up. Touching the screen lightly, he took the call.

"Yashiro-san!"

"Hello, Ren. How are you?"

Ren opened his mouth to trill his fineness, and shut it right up again. Five minutes ago, he could have honestly said he was doing well. Five days ago, he could have happily lied to hide his true feelings. Right now, however, Yukihito was privy to a lot of his secrets and sadness and did not despise him for anything. Ren could not utter an untruth to him.

"Yashiro-san..."

"Ren?" the manager managed to pick up quickly on the tone. "What's happened? Is everything all right? Are your friends unhappy to have you with them?"

"No, they're fine. Still, maybe I should've stayed in a hotel..."

"No," Yukihito was certain, "It was definitely smarter to make sure you have company. I'll sleep easier knowing it, and it lessens the burden on everyone we've inconvenienced already. When I come we can stay together in the L'Ermitage and not see anyone else if you like, but for now bear with it and play nice. You _**are**_ being nice? Social? Making small talk?"

"Yes," Ren smiled tenderly at the motherly man's worry, "I'm playing nice. I'm being social. I don't have to make small talk; they're my friends. I enjoy their company. Not as much as I enjoy yours, though. Can we stay at the Beverly Wiltshire instead?"

"It'll be so expensive, Ren! Unless you're paying out of your own pocket, the best I can do for you is the Chateau Marmont."

"The Wiltshire," Ren decided, "My treat. We'll get the honeymoon suite."

"Ha-ha, very funny. I'd hoped you'd gotten over this immature joke."

"It may be a joke, Yashiro-san, but I really do cherish you. No one else in the world has such a caring manager."

"And no one else has such a careful charge," Yukihito said amusedly, "I enjoy working with you too, Ren the Responsible."

"I ate a big breakfast today."

"Really? A whole omelette?"

"Who's joking immaturely now? It was two omelettes, for your information. And a pancake. Plus a big glass of milk and some bacon."

"Milk?" muttered Yukihito, "As if your bones need any more growing. As if you're already not towering over us all. Get some vitamin C in you next time."

"Yes, mamma."

"Sure, mock me. You don't know how much I worry. If you really cherish me, stop forgetting to wear sun block!"

Ren glanced guiltily up at the sky and ducked back into the car. "I don't need sun block," he protested, "I'm not even outdoors!"

"The sun doesn't care. And don't wear sunglasses either. Imagine if you came to the set with a panda tan; can you picture their faces?"

The superstar laughed. "Yes."

"It's no laughing matter! Take care of yourself. For your career's sake. And for me."

"I told Mogami-san once," Ren recalled and sobered suddenly, "That managers hardly just fetch toast for their clients. Sometimes though I think you spend more time telling me to eat one more bite than you do telling me to work one more hour."

"No one needs to tell you to work harder," observed the other man, "And every minute I don't spend nagging you I work on finding you jobs. Or rather, rejecting job offers. I might just be the busiest man in Japan. You should be grateful I took the time to call you now. And..." Yukihito hesitated. "Mogami-san's out-of-town, did you know?"

"Yes," Ren said heavily, "She's here with me."

There was a pause. Ren pictured, with no small amount of exasperation, glee galloping across Yukihito's face as he held back a squeal of delight.

"You met up with her there? You sly _**dog**_! You never even mentioned—don't let me take up your time...!"

"She's not by my side, Yashiro-san. She came with Ishibashi."

"Oh...oh. Oh, Ren. I'm sorry."

Ren stayed quiet. Yukihito did not resist.

"I did tell you so."

"Excuse me?"

"That when you were ready to have her she might not be ready to have you. That some other fellow would snatch her up while you made up your mind. Well, I never expected it would be Ishibashi-kun, but there you have it. _C'est la vie, _say the old folks_. _It goes to show you never can tell."

"Am I being comforted?"

"You're being given the truth, Ren, and that's more than most people would offer. Cherish me? Should've cherished her. Cherish me? That's all you'll be able to cherish if you continue to give up on your ardor so easily. Cherish me! I've listened to your story, and I think you deserve happiness. It's about damn time. Cherish me. Cheer up, Ren. There's always the chance they might break up."

"No," Ren said vehemently, "They can't. She won't survive it."

"Then be happy for them, for her, and move on. How long has it been since you've dated an American? A long-distant relationship might work for you. She'll put your natural indifference down to the miles separating you."

"I'll have you know I'm a very attentive lover," Ren smarted from the insult and snapped because of the burn. Yukihito simply scoffed.

"I've been talking to the President, I'm afraid. Though I've never seen you in a loveless relationship, I have a good idea of how you are. He assures me you wouldn't notice if the girl wrote out her need for _**attention**_ in blood on your walls. An attentive lover? Do you cherish your girlfriends, Ren?"

"I take it back," Ren made a moue. "I don't cherish you at all. You're a terrible person and my heart feels heavier than ever."

"You remember how once Mogami-san counted on you to be stern with her? That's what you need right now. That's what I'm giving you. Hold on, I beg you, till I get there. One week. Call me as much as you like. Bear with it for a week."

Ren turned the car on and threw a gear. "A week. I can last a week. I have more to tell you about my past, Yashiro-san. It's about her. I knew her when we were children."

"A week," Yukihito sounded rather tired. "I'll be with you in a week. I'll listen to you now, if you like. Or later tonight. Or even tomorrow..."

"Or in a week." Ren moved forward. "I'm driving. I'll call you later."

"Goodbye, Ren."

"Goodbye, Yashiro-san."

000

Hikaru and Kyoko sat on their queen-sized bed in their guest-sized bedroom and looked down at their feet. Kyoko fidgeted and said:

"I'm sorry, Hikaru-san."

"Don't revert to –san because you're guilty," he told her absently.

She took it to heart. "I'm sorry, Hikaru. I can't say it enough."

He thought about it. "You have. In the end," he decided, "there's no real harm done."

There had been terrible tension for a while as Hikaru became very angry in a very cold way towards Kuu and Julie. However, when he voiced it as indignation over Kyoko being put through the horror of believing she might lose a parent rather than having his time wasted, the tension shifted as other matters came out into the light. These people weren't even her real parents, Kyoko explained, and that _**did**_ make him angry about having his time wasted and his heart touched until she also explained that they were very dear to her nonetheless.

He apologized to Julie and Kuu for losing his temper, and Julie and Kuu apologized for each other. Kyoko apologized for not checking her facts with someone sober, and Hikaru apologized again and the whole thing kept repeated until Agafea came along to ask snootily if the guest bedroom needed setting up. There was further tension when Hikaru explained his intent as to the brevity of the visit and then a moment of levity when Kyoko persuaded him that they could spend the night here instead of in a hotel. It would be more decent. It might've been even more decent to give them separate rooms, but Agafea had made assumptions about their status as a couple. She promised to have another room ready by tea time and Kuu and Julie and gone to wash up, leaving Kyoko with a moment of peace in which to make up with her boyfriend.

"It's just that their son passed away," she told him, "And they've always wanted a daughter. And when Da—um, Kuu-sama came to Japan I took care of him as a sort of one-man entourage and he made me pretend to be his son and gave really good advice and told me to take the role of Natsu and that I _**was **_as good as a son to him, or a daughter if I could be that. If I could accept them...and who wouldn't?"

"It's true," he admitted grudgingly, "They seem to be doting parents."

"Yes. So I'm very sorry—and you really aren't angry anymore?"

"No," he said quietly, sidling up to her, "I'm not."

Even Kyoko could not be oblivious to his intentions, but even Hikaru couldn't convince her that she was ready to be kissed. She hemmed and hawed and slipped away from his side. To his credit, he took it in stride.

"We should probably go ahead and wash," he gestured to the restroom. "I'll go first; I only need to scrub the travel off my face."

"Yes," she said, very much subdued. He shook his head and sighed.

"Kyoko, look at me. What is a good kiss? Whenever two people are putting all they've got into it. Isn't that what your senior taught you? Isn't that what Tsuruga-san always says? Whenever you're ready. Whenever _**we're**_ ready."

She nodded like she understood, and soon after they had Kuu and Julie fairly sprint in. Julie seized Kyoko once more and held her to her bosom.

"I'll never let go! My sweet little girl. When Kuu told me he'd had a new child in Japan I was scared for a minute that he'd actually found the balls to cheat on me. Little did I know what a blessing he'd gotten. I don't know who bore you in her womb, darling." Here she let the girl up to breathe for a second and looked into her eyes with her own earnest gaze. "But I am eternally indebted to her. You've given me more joy by your presence alone than I've experienced in five years."

Hikaru looked away abashedly as Kyoko's eyes filled with tears. Julie gripped her foster daughter's arms and asked what was wrong. Bit by painful bit, Kyoko told her American mamma about a woman that was more monster than mother. She elucidated how incomprehensible it was that she, Kyoko, could make someone's life better by merely existing. She outlined, in brief, how the eternal debt belonged to her and not to Julie.

"You've given me more joy by your affection alone than I've experienced in all my life. Moko-san notwithstanding."

They didn't know who Kanae was, though, and that required further explaining. Just when Hikaru was thinking these parents didn't know their child at all, Kuu rubbed his hands together and said:

"Right! Down to business. Itinerary: to be planned. We'll take a day to see Sea World and a day to see Universal Studios. If you like roller coasters, we'll spend a day in Knott's Berry Farm as well. We should probably stay over at the Disney hotel for at least two days to fully enjoy the California Adventure Park and Disney Land. Then...road trip to San Francisco! I'll call ahead and let Bernard to get the ranch house ready. Tell him the wife and I are coming with the kid and the son-in-law, eh?" he winked at Hikaru.

"Actually," Hikaru said politely, "I'm afraid I have my own schedule. My band is performing soon and we need to practice."

Both Julie and Kuu made disappointed remarks about how sad it was that he couldn't spend time with them, but it was obvious that they were delighted with Kyoko's company and not his. They appreciated him and admired the way he'd brought her here at a moment's notice, yet he wasn't the apple of their eyes. She was. As that was how it should be, Hikaru had no complaints. He held Kyoko's right hand as Julie held her left and Kuu drew on a dry-erase board with a blue marker, making plans.

"Question." Since both her hands were occupied, Kyoko tilted her head. "What's today's plan?"

Julie and Kuu looked at each other.

"It's your choice," she said, "I thought you'd be tired and might want to sleep. If you've got the energy and enthusiasm though, we were thinking the beach house in Laguna Beach was worth a visit."

"I'm sorry," Hikaru frowned, "Shouldn't it be a beach house in Malibu?"

"Oh, that's residential property. We would feel bad having a beach house there and not using it year-round. No, we liked the Laguna Beach better; it's a resort city basically. Lots of cute stores and restaurants. I think you'd really like it."

She sounded hopeful. Hikaru was exhausted from the trip he'd made across the globe, and it was Kyoko's first battle with jet lag. Still, they nodded at each other and then at the older couple.

"Sounds good. Let's do it."

000

The nice thing about California, Ren cogitated as he drove, was that there was always a beach at hand. No matter how far inland you were in the state you could make a day of it. Beach Sunday. Beach fun day! _Beach,_ he thought, _this one day, show me some love too. _

They had beaches in Japan as well, Ren knew, but the Californian ones were different. It was the sky. It was big enough for everyone to soar. When he was a child he had felt like he was being crushed into the ground. It wasn't like that anymore. Ren breathed deeply. He had wings. He could fly as much as he liked now. The sky was higher here, the women freer, the water colder and the sand softer. Ren wasn't given to glamorizing or favoring America unduly; he had to admit California was world famous for its beaches with good reason.

Laguna Beach's beach wasn't as large as the Huntington beach and it didn't have a pier like the one at Santa Monica. Nevertheless it was a pleasant place. In accordance to Yukihito's wishes, the superstar left his sunglasses in the rental Lexus and stepped out into the hot sun barefoot; his Armani shoes would be safer in the car. He scurried into the shade of a shack to buy sun screen and set out towards the tide line, glad he'd chosen to wear shorts and lathering cream onto his bare arms.

Then he heard a scream.

"_**Kuon!**_"

Without looking up, he knew who it was. He froze in place. That was not a voice he would ever forget. That was the voice of the woman who'd brought him forth into the world. That was the voice of Hizuri Julie.

It was a voice he wasn't ready for. Before he could turn and run, more voices he wasn't ready for hailed him.

"Tsuruga-san?"

"Son!"

"Kyoko, is that really him?"

He raised his eyes. Kyoko was running towards him in a swimsuit. A _**swimsuit**_. It was a one piece, and it tore his heart into a thousand pieces. It was black, and it made him blue. It tied around her neck like a halter top, and tightened around his neck like a noose.

"It is! It is, Hikaru! Tsuruga-san, what are you doing here?"

"Why," Hikaru was quicker to the point, "Did Julie-san call you 'Corn'?"

"It's not 'Corn'," Kyoko turned to tell him impatiently, "She said 'Kuon'. It's the name of her—" she caught the implication behind the technicality, and gazed upon Ren with an amalgamation of horror and fascination.

"It's the name of our son," Kuu said, leading Julie by her wrist. The mother Hikaru and Kyoko had thought bereaved had a hand clasped over her mouth and tears slipping down her cheeks fast.

"I thought," Kyoko spoke as if by someone's deathbed, "Kuon had passed away."

Kuu surveyed her. "I guess I did word it ambiguously. Actually, our Kuon ran away."

"He was _**kidnapped**_," Julie choked out, "By that great silly man Takarada Lory, who thinks he can arrange the world like some sort of god!"

No one disagreed with the concise summation of Lory's personality. Everyone turned to Ren, who was still squeezing the SPF bottle so that his hand was filled with cream and it was running down his arm and dripping off his elbow.

"Tsuruga-san," Kyoko marvelled, "You're Hizuri Kuu's son? You're..." her breath caught. Hikaru caught what she was thinking and chuckled.

"I guess that means you two are siblings. Tsuruga-san, meet your little sister. Hizuri Kuon, meet Hizuri Kyoko."

It wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all. His parents and his beloved and his beloved's love were all laughing in amazed appreciation of the twist, but Ren had seldom been less inclined to giggle. He locked eyes with his father, who at least understood part of his distress and ceased his unseemly guffawing.

"He was in Japan to make a name for himself. We agreed not to contact him till he was satisfied with his position in international cinema." He grinned ruefully. "Still, Kuon, a mother's love cannot be controlled. Julie, why aren't you hugging your boy?"

"I want to make sure," she said shyly, her great dark eyes looking up at her offspring from under great dark lashes. "I remember what you told me, Kuu, and I remember Kuon in his video mail. I wanted to know if he was a dream or real and if he was going to stay or run away again."

It was too much. Ren would've rather watched Kyoko have sex with Shou than bear his mother being anything but overbearing. If not her right, then whose was it? He went down on his knees and said:

"Mom."

Kyoko looked on with shiny, shiny eyes and Hikaru turned his head away in discretion demanded by the universal bro code as Hizuri Kuon held his mother's hands and said:

"Mom. _**Mom**_."

There were so many tears that Hikaru actually fled the scene. When he came back half an hour later with ice cream cones for everyone, things had settled down some. Julie had put Kuon to her left and Kuu had put Kyoko to his right so that the family of four looked like a proper mother, father, brother and sister. Hikaru felt awkward until Kyoko scooted closer to Kuu and patted the sand between her and Ren, thus shooting the last, straggling piece of Ren's heart that still beat some drum of hope. Everyone licked their ice cream in silence and looked at the sky. Hikaru had bought three chocolates, a strawberry, and a vanilla. Ren ended up with a flavor he didn't like so that Kyoko could have the strawberry.

The parents sighed happily, Hikaru nuzzled the top of Kyoko's head and everyone smiled at Ren.

Then Kyoko turned her face upwards and declared, "The beaches back home are nothing like this. I had a friend when I was young who was scared the sky was going to press down and crush him one day. He would've been happy here. The sky is high. There's room for everyone to soar."

She turned to smile at Ren again, but he was gone. Breaking free of the family group, he was running back towards the rented Lexus and already taking out his phone. They called after him, and Julie ran, but his legs were too long. His heart was too hurt. He yanked open the door, swore to find it locked, solved his problem and slammed the door after him before putting the pedal to the metal.

He called Yukihito.

"Come now," he said, "Not a week. Not in three days. Not in two or one or in twelve hours I need you here _**now**_ Yashiro-san I think I'm dying. I think I'm crying."

There was no answer. Yukihito was breathing, and Ren was breathing a _**lot**_. There was a tapping on the manager's end though, and Ren knew he was on the internet looking for flight tickets.

"Yashiro-san?"

Yukihito waited a moment more before speaking.

"Pick me up in eleven hours at the airport. Can you do that?"

Ren breathed a little more evenly. "Yes."

"Ren?"

"Yes?"

"I cherish you too."

**x.x.x.x.x.x**

**There was this reviewer that said I'm depicting Ren as, well, pretty fucking gay. I thought and I thought about how to fix my tendency to razz on his sexuality, and decided that the best way to amend my ****misdemeanor**** is to not. And so you have this chapter where Ren does not show mere homosexual undertones; he is smeared with the rainbow hues of faggotry. While still being completely straight for Kyoko. Hey, that's how a bishounen works, right? **

**Seriously though, I'm sorry hentai18ancilla. **


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